Tearing At The Seams
by SVUlover
Summary: Once upon a dream, everything was ok, even if it was just a facade. Now I'm just tearing at the seams. Possible Moliver
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a new story for your reading pleasure. Because I'm different -- When my muse comes back I don't update current stories, I start new ones! Yay me! So yea...please read and review, I'm actually very happy with this, and actually think this will be my best story ever. Enjoy! Dedicated to RazzleDazzleRazzmatazz (she's awesome, go see her profile) because she encouraged me that this was good, and helped me with the title!**

**PS: This is meant to take place post the new episode airing Sunday, I think it is. for those or you residing in the USA. So...youtube is a magical place! **

**PPS: Disclaimer: I don't own anything familiar, but you probably know that already!  
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Have you ever had a dream, maybe, that you got something you really wanted? Something you really, truly wished for. Something you ached for so much it physically hurt more then falling off of a horse? It was great well it lasted. And then you woke up, and it all hurt more then before.

Maybe it wasn't even a dream. Maybe it was something that had actually happened. But in the end it was all a misunderstanding.

That is what this felt like.

I forced a fake smile on to my face as he explained he didn't love me, he was rehearsing, using my unconscious body, how to tell Lily he loved her.

I had to hand it to him...it would have been a good plan. Rehearsals are always good, so you don't choke up when you go to do it for real.

But his plan had a flaw. My out of body experience went and screwed it up.

I felt so stupid. I should have realized he was practicing saying it to Lily!

Why would he love me? Me, the girl he'd been so wiling to give up a friendship with just because I scored an audition when he didn't.

It had been obviously staring me in the face. He wasn't really confessing his love for me.

I sat out on my balcony, watching the moon.

My fingers gripped the guitar pick, and I strummed it over the strings on my guitar, my mouth opening, the words tumbling out. I'd wrote this song long ago. Everyone thought it was for Jake.

Only I knew it was really for Oliver.

"_If we were a movie  
You'd be the right guy  
And I'd be the best friend  
You'd fall in love with  
In the end we'd be laughing  
Watching the sunset  
Fade to black  
Show the names  
Play the happy song_

_Yeah  
Yeah, yeah  
When you call me  
I can hear it in your voice  
Oh sure!  
Wanna see me  
And tell me all about her  
La la  
I'll be acting through my tears  
I guess you'll never know  
That I should win  
An Oscar for this scene I'm in_

_If we were a movie  
You'd be the right guy  
And I'd be the best friend  
You'd fall in love with  
In the end we'd be laughing  
Watching the sunset  
Fade to black  
Show the names  
Play the happy song_

_Wish I could tell you there's a twist  
Some kind of hero in disguise  
And we're together  
It's for real  
Now playing  
Wish I could tell you there's a kiss  
Like something more than in my mind  
I see it  
Could be amazing..._" I trailed off, as my eyes became to prickly with tears.

"God, Miley, you're so _stupid_." I whispered to myself, the tears spilling over, as I set the guitar pick on the arm of the chair, and put my guitar aside. I looked up at the dark sky, and the bright moon, and spoke through my tears. "Hey mom...remember when you helped with the the Jake and Jesse thing. It was a fake. I don't love Jake. I never loved Jake. 'If We Were A Move' Isn't even about Jake! It's about Oliver. How...how do I do this mom?" I whimpered. "It hurts so much, and I feel so idiotic and stupid! Why would he love me, why would he _ever_ love me?! Why would any guy _ever_ love _me_?"

As expected, I got no answer.

I sighed, wiping away my tears.

Time to go to bed.

I had school tomorrow.

Ode to Joy.

School, where I was with Lily and Oliver all the time.

School, where I'd have to force a smile on my face and happiness in to my voice for seven hours straight.

School.

Stupid, stupid, school.

"Night, momma." I whispered, and then stood. I gathered my guitar and guitar pick, then slowly made my way back inside, limping every step of the way.

This stupid walking brace cast thing was really beginning to get on my nerves.

I set the guitar on the stand, and the pick on my dresser, then shut my French doors on to the balcony, and locked them.

I went through the routine – another routine, just like the school one. Just like the life denying me love one. Stupid routines – I went through for bed, and then slid under my covers.

Then, right on time, dad opened the door, and stuck his head in. "G'Night baby girl—Miley why you been crying?"

Damn it.

"I haven't been." I lied.

He came in all the way, and sat on the edge of my bed. "I'm worried about you, Miles." He said.

I shrugged. "I'm fine, daddy. My Ankle's healing just fine."

"I'm glad about that, but I didn't mean your ankle, baby. You've seemed so...down lately. What's going on, baby girl? You know you can tell me anything."

I couldn't stop the tears from renewing themselves and spilling over, and so they did, falling down my cheeks rapidly as I gasped out sobs, suddenly unable to stop.

Through the blurriness, I saw his face etched in shock and worry, as he immediately pulled me in to his arms, wrapping me in an embrace.

"What is it darlin?" He begged for an answer, "What's wrong?"

I couldn't tell him the true blue reason. I couldn't tell him I was in love with my best friend, our other best friend's boyfriend. So I told him the second thing that was wrong.

"I miss her daddy." I choked out. "I miss her so much. I need her."

I did need her. I needed her to tell me what I was supposed to do. I needed her more then I ever had. And that was saying something.

My father was no stranger to my breakdowns. When mom had first died, they happened often. As they years progressed, they died down, usually happening at least once a year.

He held me close, he stroked my hair, he let me cry, he whispered words of comfort.

--

Oliver Oken slowly walked home to his house.

He dodged his mother, and went straight to his room, and got in bed.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed his phone, and called Lily.

"Ollie-Pop, it's one in the morning," Her voice said, he'd obviously roused her from sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Lily...I went to see Miley earlier and...I heard some things. Some important things."

--

I eventually gave in to the deathly exhaustion, and gave in to sleep, dad still holding me.

That night, my dreams were a mixture of things. They involved my mother, sliding in and out often inside a different version of what had went down that afternoon. In my version, Lily was happy Oliver didn't love her. She was going to break up with him but hadn't wanted to hurt him.

He confessed his love to me, and all was happy ever after.

Another one of those situations where you wake up...and it just hurts more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! Thanks for the reviews guys! I hope you like this chapter as much! :) Keep the reviews coming please!**

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I hate waking up past the alarm, but I did it often.

When the light finally made it's way in to my eyes, and I found the will to look at my clock, my eyes widened at the digital readout, the red numbers glared out the time. 9:30 AM, it said.

Home room started at eight.

"Shit!" I said, and threw the covers back.

I limped to my closet, detesting this walking cast even more, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a random shirt out, and got changed as fast as possible.

I then hurried to the bathroom, quickly applied make up and put a poof in my hair, which was wavy, and then went back to my room and grabbed my backpack and slid my non-casted foot in to a flip flop.

"Daddy," I called, carefully making my downstairs.

"Good morning darlin'," He said, looking up from the TV.

"I slept past my alarm, why didn't you wake me?!" I asked.

"I turned your alarm off, thought I'd let you sleep in. I can drive you to school."

He shut off the TV, and grabbed his car keys. I assumed my brother was at classes and the University.

"You could've just stayed home." Dad said, as we got in his car.

"I cant miss school." No matter how much I want to.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, as we got on the road.

I nodded quietly. It was a lie.

I reached out and turned the radio on.

_If we were a movie_

_You'd be the right guy..._

My own song blasted through the speakers, and so I changed it.

Dad looked at me, confused. "I thought you got a kick outta hearing yourself on the radio."

I shrugged. "Not that song."

"Don't want to think about Jake? You're better off without him, Miley! I know you thought 'he could be the one' but.."

I cut him off. "Yea dad. You're totally right."

He chuckled. "Ok, I get it, I'll stop talking."

We rode the rest of the way in silence. When we got to school, he scribbled a note on a piece of paper in the car, and handed it to me.

"Thanks." I muttered, opening the door. He lent over and kissed my forehead.

"Have a good day, baby girl. And remember – you don't need boys!" Dad said

I rolled my eyes as I got out. "Bye daddy."

"Bye baby." He drove away, and I slowly walked in to school, checked in, and then headed to my third period class: Chemistry, with Lily and Oliver.

I got there and handed her a late pass.

"Nice of you to join us, Ms. Stewart." Mrs. Kunkle said. "Take your seat, and do the book work on page 456, with Miss. Truscott and Mr. Oken, please."

I nodded, and slid in to my seat at the table with Lily, and Oliver.

I situated my leg and put my bag down, and pulled my book and notebook out, and opened up to the page, before looking up at them.

Both of them were talking quietly, doing the work.

"Um...guys?" I asked.

They both looked up and smiled.

"Hi." Lily said.

"Yo..." Oliver mumbled.

"What brings you to school late?" Lily said after a pause.

"Oh...dad let me sleep in. Last night was tough...I...I was really missing my mom cause of some...things that happened yesterday." I shrugged. "What number are you guys on?"

"Twenty four." Oliver said.

"Oh..." I said. "I guess I'll just do it myself them." I mumbled.

"Ok." Lily said.

I looked down, somewhat hurt.

They went back to whispering together, and I tried to figure out the Chemistry questions.

When the bell rang, I began to gather my stuff, then got up, to find Lily and Oliver both gone.

I couldn't help but feel hurt. They didn't even tell me they were going. Usually liver walked Lily and I to our English class before going on to his math class.

I walked to English alone to find Lily in her seat.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" I asked casually, hiding the slight hurt.

"Oh." Lily said. "We thought you were with us, sorry."

"It's fine." I mumbled, as the bell rang.

Class was an hour long of taking notes, so we didn't get to talk. I followed Lily out of the room, where Oliver was waiting, and we walked to the gym, which was their next class, and I went on to my Spanish class.

An hour of a language I didn't understand later, I walked back to the gym, to find Lily and Oliver already gone.

What was going on?

I walked to lunch myself, and found them at our usual table, mid-laugh.

I slowly sunk in to my seat, without getting food. I wasn't hungry. I was just upset – what was going on?

They didn't acknowledge me as I sat down, and not at all until I finally said, during a period of silence as they ate, "You guys want to come over after school? We can work on the chemistry homework."

"I can't." Oliver said, without any further explanation.

"Me either...Mom got home from her business trip, wants me to hang out." Lily said.

"Oh...alright." I said quietly.

They went right on talking, and the bell soon rang dismissing lunch.

The rest of the day went on much like the first part.

They conveniently thought I was with them when they left the classes we had, and they talked between themselves.

"Oliver can you still give me a ride home?" I asked at the end of the day when we met at our lockers which were all right next to each other's.

"Sure." He said shortly.

Lily had already left, her mom had picked her up.

I followed him to his car, and after we were heading towards the neighborhood, I asked, "So...how are you?"

"Fine."

"What're you doing this afternoon?"

"Anthony's home from college. Chillin' with him." Anthony was his brother, home on break I guess.

"Oh. That sounds like fun! Tell him I said hi." I said.

"Will do. See you, Miley." He said, as he pulled up to my house.

I got out, and watched him drive away without a backwards glance.

Slowly walking in to the house, I dropped my bag on the floor.

Dad was in the kitchen, and looked up when I walked in.

"Hey Miles...what's wrong?" He asked, walking around the island, so sit with me on the couch.

"At school today Lily and Oliver kept ignoring me." I mumbled.

"I'm sure they didn't mean to," He said, waving his hand. "They love you, baby girl!"

I shrugged. Maybe he was right!

But that evening, I walked to Rico's to get a smoothie, because I really felt like a strawberry banana smoothie, and stopped.

There were Lily and Oliver, sitting at the counter, homework spread open, and smoothies and nachos. They'd been there a while.

I turned around without going to Rico's and walked to the beach, and sank in to the sand.

The tears that had been fighting to fall out during each cold shoulder, each time they ignored me, each time they forgot about that day began to flow down my face.

This is just what I'd feared. They'd get caught up in eachother and not want me around anymore.

They had each other.

They _loved_ each other.

"Sure they didn't mean too." I muttered through my tears, staring in the distance at the water. "And they accidentally lied, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter. Warning: Erm...intense content at the end. Nothing explicit, but you've been warned. **

**Thanks to the reviewers. please please PLEASE review guys! **

**This chapter is major and very important. As you'll see.  
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Have you ever thought that even though one day was bad, the next day it would get better? I've been that foolish too. The next day, I woke up with a feeling of dread.

I got ready for school, ate, and then dad drove me to school (on time).

The day went the same as the previous one.

So did the next one, and the next one.

Every day that week was the same. Every night that week I wondered why.

What had gone so wrong? I hadn't done anything!

I thought maybe it had just been a bad week. But when the next week went exactly the same, even getting worse, I realized it wasn't just a bad week.

Friday, Hannah had a concert that Lola and Mike were supposed to go too.

Oliver didn't have his car, and so we were walking home. When their conversation paused, I asked, "You guys are still coming to the concert, right?"

"Oh...we forgot." Lily said. This week, I'd learned a lot about how Lily looks when she lies. She was lying through her teeth. "Sorry." No you aren't Lily.

"Sure." I muttered, heading down my driveway, pausing to turn and face them. "What did I do, guys? I don't get it!" I said, my voice raised.

"What do you mean, Miley?" Lily asked.

I stared at her for a moment, before shaking my head. "Never mind." I said quietly. "Just...never mind."

"Ok." Lily shrugged. "See ya, Miley. Good luck at the concert," She stated, then headed off.

I slouched, fighting back tears, and turned to go in my house.

"Miley," I turned to see Oliver, still standing there. His face looked torn. "I'm sorry." He finally said. "I promise...I'll go to tomorrow's concert with you?"

"Ok." I smiled, and nodded. "Thanks, Oliver."

He smiled and nodded, then waved.

I waved back, and watched him leave.

As I watched him walk away, one ray of hope – Maybe he doesn't hate me – snuck it's way through the wall of hatred for me they built up.

But then I swallowed, remembering the past two weeks, and shook my head.

_Just friends Miley. Just. Friends. And he's only doing this because he feels guilty. _

--

The following evening, I sat in my limo on the way to the concert in LA. It was a long ride. I was alone.

Dad was on some date, Jackson was at some party.

I was going to be late for my own concert because I'd waited for Oliver, who stood me up.

The tears feel quickly out of my eyes as the limo sped on the highway.

I'd called him, and he didn't answer. I knew he was hitting ignore, it went to voice mail so quick. I'd texted, no answer. As I sat there thinking, it became clear. I knew what was happening. It was just what I'd feared would happen all along.

They have each other. They love each other. They don't need me there, a third wheel. I was becoming the pathetic looser who was trying to hang on to friends that didn't need her anymore.

I know what you're thinking – you're Hannah freaking Montana! Who needs them?

Well _I_ need them.

It's not easy, being famous. I have no idea weather any of Hannah's friends are really her friends.

And the double life...It's gotten so overwhelming. But Hannah's one of the only things I have left.

Have you ever felt like your life was so out of your control? That's how I've felt lately.

I shouldn't have gone to the concert. That much would become clear in the following hours. I should have listened to my dad when he said he'd cancel the date and go with me. Or I should've just canceled it. I really wasn't in the Hannah mood anyways. I'd soon start taking the fact that Oliver didn't show as a meaning. I should've demanded the show be canceled, and went and cried in my room like I'd wanted too.

I should. Not. Have. Gone.

Then things wouldn't be half as bad as they became.

I shouldn't have gone.

But I did.

The limo finally arrived at the venue about forty-five minutes late.

"There you are!" Jennette hissed when I walked in, taking my sweet time.

Grabbing my arm, she said, "The opening act has been playing for over an hour! You were supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago! Hurry and get dressed, now!" She hissed, shoving me in to the dressing room.

I thought about my options. Hurry up like I probably should, or take my time like I wanted too.

I went with the latter.

"HANNAH!" she knocked on my door after ten minutes. "Let's GO!"

I sighed, and finished pushing my feet in to the heels, and then went to the door.

The microphone was shoved in my hand, and I was pushed under the stage.

I ducked, and walked slowly to the end of the runway (by this time, the cast was off) and then, I heard my music start.

This concert was the most awful I've ever done.

My voice kept going flat, I kept forgetting the words, and I just wasn't in to it.

I felt so hurt.

There was another sign: the concert was a fail, I should have gone home, but no, I listened to Traci, and went to her house, to the party she was having.

At the party, there were so many people, I probably didn't know more then 25% of them. Traci was known for her parties, and having alcohol. You could drink to your hearts content.

There had been times when I wanted to, but never did.

The room was packed, the music was loud, and the room reeked of alcohol and horrible body odor. I sat in a chair off to one side, waiting until I'd been there a suitable amount of time so I could go home.

"Come on Hannah!" Traci giggled as she stumbled over, her butt pressed against some guys crotch as they 'danced' to some Lady Gaga song. "This party is in your honor! Have some fun!"

"I am, Traci...oh look I see someone I know...see ya!" I said, and quickly ran out of sight.

I ducked in to one of the rooms that was always set up for couple to get more comfortable, after making sure it was empty.

It was one of the many guest rooms in Traci's house.

I was thankful, for in here it was slightly quieter, the smell wasn't nearly as bad, and I was away from all the people.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and took a deep breath, looking at my phone. "Just one more hour Miley," I whispered to myself. "Then you can go home."

I yawned, and sat back on the bed, thinking.

They were probably together, laughing at me.

I was to half asleep and half thinking, I didn't notice someone else entering the room until the person was standing over me and said my name. "Hello, _Hannah_." He said, "Long time no see."

I sat up, yawning. "Oh...Hi." I muttered awkwardly. Our last encounter hadn't gone well. It had been the breakup after only a week of dating.

"Hey. I saw you come in here...it's been a while. I wanted to see you." He said. Something about his eyes looked off.

"Oh...well you've seen me." I said. "My rides probably here." I told him faking apologetic-ness, "I should get out of here."

I never got out of that room.

Before I knew it, I was laying on the bed, he'd pushed me down.

"What're you-"

"Shut up," He hissed.

"What are you doing!" I cried, as he began stripping. He didn't answer, and that's when I got it.

He was going to get what he wanted...what I hadn't given him...what I'd refused to give him.

"Nobody," He hissed, as he began tearing at my clothes, "Says no to me."

He wasn't holding me down. He didn't have any weapon. I could have run.

But I didn't.

Fear had filled me, rushing in as though I'd been thrown in to ice cold water. I couldn't move.

I couldn't find my voice.

His hands roughly removed my clothes, his eyes were so unfamiliar glaring at me.

"Please," I managed to whimper. "No, please...I don't want this..."

"I don't care." His words were harsh and cold.

And true.

It was then that I tried to struggle. I tried to get up and run. I tried to kick him, but he was to quick, and he backhanded me across the face. "I suggest you don't do that again." He hissed, hitting me again.

I listened.

His hands pried my legs apart.

His lips covered my body all over, I felt disgusting.

And then, I felt horrible pain. I began screaming, and his lips covered mine, to cover the noise.

The tears flowed down my face without stopping.

I don't know how long passed until he finished. He pulled the comforter of the bed out from under me, and threw it over me. He pulled his clothes back on. His face hung over mine, and his grin was triumphant, as he forced his lips over mine again.

"See you, baby." He hissed, and then he was gone, with my virginity, with my pride, with what little happiness I'd had left.

I turned on to my side, my body aching, and burst in to sobs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter! Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! Please please PLEASE keep them coming! Enjoy this chapter!  
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I don't know how long I was there. I only moved when I saw the digital letters on the clock on the night table. It was three in the morning.

Tears still streaming down my face, I slowly got up, wrapping the comforter around my body, and checked the closet.

This was one of the closets subject to holding the overflow of Traci's clothes, thank God. I checked another door. Bathroom. Perfect.

I locked the door to the bedroom, and went to the bathroom, I took my wig off, and set it on the counter, and undid my hair from the cover it was under, taking it out of the ponytail.

I turned the water on, and stepped in.

It was scalding hot, but I didn't bother to change it.

Then I paused. I remembered watching episodes of 'Law and Order: SVU; and this was the last thing I should do if he was ever going to pay.

But I felt so dirty.

I just wanted to clean.

I must've used more then half of the bottle of body wash I found in the shower, and the remaining contents of the shampoo and conditioner bottles. When the water began to get colder, I cranked it up to scalding again.

When I finally stepped out of the shower, my skin was an angry red, and I didn't feel clean at all. I went back to the bedroom, and pulled some of Traci's clothes on over my own bra and underwear.

I found my bag thrown across the room, and shoved the wig in to that, and put my shoes back on.

I then found my phone, broken.

Under the cabinet in the bathroom, I found plastic garbage bags.

Shuddering, I put the clothes I had been wearing in there. They'd been under me when he'd...well, they held evidence. I left the comforter...Traci had told me after every party, she had her staff wash every room from top to bottom – and then washed my hands viciously in the sink of the bathroom. I stuffed the bag with my clothes in to my bag, and then walked out of the room.

There were still people dancing, and people passed out on the couches and chairs. Without notice, I was able to get out.

And then, I ran.

I ran to the end of Traci's street, and waved down a cab, giving them the 'address' of Rico's.

The area was, of course, empty, as it was four in the morning.

I went in to the shack, and looked around. I stuffed the bag in to the rafters of the ceiling and out of site. No one would know it was there.

I then ran home. When I got there, the lights were all on. I was in trouble. I slowly walked on to the deck, and opened the door.

Dad was pacing the room in front of the couch, phone to his ear. He stopped when I walked in.

"You can stop looking Jackson, she's here." He said.

I looked at him for a moment, as he hung up the phone.

"You are in so much trouble young lady...where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick! It's four in the morning, Miley Ray Stewart!" He roared at me.

I looked down, and then ignored the aching all over my body, and ran past him up the stairs, and in to my room. I slammed the door shut, and fell on to my bed in sobs.

His voice was roaring as he came up the stairs. "Miley Ray Stewart, how dare you run away from me you are in so much trouble!"

When he got to my door and discovered I'd locked it, he slammed on the door. "Open this door NOW, Miley!"

I quieted my sobs. Maybe he'd think I was asleep and go away.

Then, I heard the key in the lock.

I'd forgotten about the key. Stupid key.

I pulled my covers over my head, and held them tight in my fist, as he finally got the door open.

"You, young lady are in so much trouble you will be forty before you have a life again!" He yelled at me.

And then, he stopped.

"Miley?" He asked, his voice softer. I'd tried to be quiet with my crying, it wasn't working. I was sobbing like I had when my mother died. So hard, I could barely breathe.

His hands gently but roughly at the same time pried the blankets from the death grip they were in in my fists, and pulled them back, and he lifted me so my face wasn't buried in my pillows, therefore it wasn't constricting my breathing even more.

When I was sitting up. I reached out and pulled the covers up again, to cover myself.

"Why aren't you wearing your own clothes?" He asked, his voice sharp.

The sobs rocked through my body harder.

His hands gently grabbed my arm, and he held it out, and he saw the bruises. He surveyed the other arm, then gently tore the covers back again.

I was wearing one of the only things I'd been able to find in Traci's closet, a mini skirt. He saw more bruises on the parts of my legs the fabric didn't cover.

His eyes found my face in shock, and he saw the bruises there from when...the monster had hit me.

"Miley," He breathed, his voice gentle, the way it usually was. "Baby girl, what happened?!" His voice was urgent, he wanted to know.

He wrapped his arms around me as I shook my head, still sobbing hard. My head against his chest, he stroked his fingers through my damp curls, holding me close.

We sat there for a long time. The sun had fully rose in the sky, Jackson arrived home announcing it was nine in the morning, and asking me where the hell I'd been, he'd got called away from the biggest party of the year to look from me. He'd stopped as he'd entered my room, and saw me crying, daddy holding me.

Dad had waved him away, and we sat more. He didn't ask again, but I knew he wanted me to tell him.

Once I'd calmed down enough, once my breathing had returned to semi-normal, I opened my mouth.

My mouth tried to form words, but no noise came out.

"You want to try writing it down?" Dad suggested. I feebly nodded, and he reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

I waited as he did. The pad of paper had been located near a frame on my night table, a picture of Lily, Oliver, and I.

I wondered what they thought...when I hadn't returned home on time, dad had surely called both of them when I had not returned home.

I wonder if Oliver had though 'maybe if I'd gone with her like I'd promised, she wouldn't be missing.'

Maybe Lily thought she should have gone with me, then I would be home.

My heart sank even more when I realized the probability of either of those occurrences happening was low.

Dad gently put the pen in my hand and held the notepad in front of me.

Shakily, I lifted my hand, and pressed it to the paper. I shut my eyes as I wrote, not wanting to see myself form the words. As I wrote, my mind screamed it, over and over so that eventually, my voice, hoarse and broken screamed it too. Over and over, I yelled, I cried.

Jackson appeared at my door, face pale and angry, as Dad tried to calm me down, holding my tightly, whispering that it'd be ok, but all I did was scream it and cry some more.

_"He raped me."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! Here is the next chapter for you guys -- it's the longest one yet! I'm very proud of this one :) Reviews are MUCH appreciated!!**

**-Jen  
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It was a while before dad said anything again, and when he did, I didn't want to hear it.

"We...I need to take you to the hospital." Dad murmured.

I immediately shook my head. Once my screaming fit had subsided, I hadn't said anything.

"Miley, I need to take you to the hospital." He said more firmly. "We need to report this. We're reporting this. Can you walk?" He asked.

Could I? I didn't know for sure. Did I think I could? No, not at all. I was so tired, my body ached, I felt like if I had to stand, I'd collapse.

I opened my mouth to speak, but again, I couldn't. Helplessly, I lifted my shoulders in a feeble shrug.

"Jackson," Dad said to my brother, who sat on the window seat in my room, "Get my car keys."

Ge gently lay me back down on my bed, and then grabbed the purse I'd taken with me last night. Ordinarily, I'd be ticked at him for going through my stuff, but I didn't care.

He pulled out the wig, knotted and messed up.

I didn't want to see it, and so I turned over, and shut my eyes.

I heard my closet open, hangers moving. Jackson came back, I heard the keys jingling.

"Miley, where's your phone?" Dad asked.

In the bag with my clothes in pieces. Above Rico's.

I shook my head.

Sighing, he held out the notepad again.

'_broken.' _I wrote.

It's broken, just like me.

Before he could go on, I continued writing. '_no hospital.' _I stated, looking up at him.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, baby, but I have to bring you to the hospital. We need to make sure you aren't hurt."

I looked at him for a long time.

Everything hurts, daddy. My body. My heart. Pride.

A doctor can only fix one of those, if they can fix that.

"I know." He said softly, as though he read my mind. "I know." He gently wrapped his arms around me again, holding me close.

My head rested against his chest, and the familiarity of this was a small comfort. His hug was so familiar. I'd been receiving them since I was a baby, since before I could even remember, and that becomes comforting. Familiar is comforting. Especially after what just happened.

"You need to at least get the morning after pill." he suddenly said. "And I want to make there's no physical damage."

After a moment, I gave a tiny nod.

He stood, lifting me in to his arms.

Jackson stayed behind, shutting off the lights and locking the house, as dad carried me downstairs and out to his car.

Jackson got in the driver's seat, and daddy sat in the back with me.

I felt like a pitiful weakling when I couldn't even make myself lift my hand to buckle my own seatbelt. Dad had to do it for me.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car, and saw it'd been hours. It was noon when we got to the hospital emergency room.

Unbuckling both his seatbelt and mine, Jackson opened the door, and dad gently lifted me in to his arms again. It was almost as if he thought I were like a glass doll, like I'd break at any moment. The fact that maybe he wasn't far off scared me. I found myself thinking about how Lily and I had sometimes had cop show marathons. About how we'd talk about how this would never happen to us. How we would be strong and show the bastard who was boss.

Then I got to thinking about what both Lily, and Oliver would say if there were here with me. If this had happened a month ago, I'd say they'd be at my side. Lily would be there if I had to get one of those awful examinations done. Oliver would be muttering threats about how he'd kill the guy, along with my brother and father.

But this was if it'd been a month ago. It wasn't.

Now...they'd probably laugh. They'd probably call me weak. And it made myself hurt more when I realized I'd actually think that of them.

When we got inside the Emergency room, a nurse looked up from the desk, and signaled another nurse to get a wheel chair, which dad gently put me in.

I gripped the arm rests in my hands, and looked down at my lap.

I felt eyes on me from the other patients, as dad talked in hush tones with the nurse, and then, I was immediately taken back to an exam room.

I knew what they were thinking. Why was my problem bigger then theirs? They'd been waiting, so why should I go first?

I also knew then answer.

For me, the police had to be called. For me, if we choose to get a ra-...to get a examination done, they had to do it as soon as possible.

Dad and Jackson sat in chairs, I sat in the wheelchair as we waited.

"Miley," Dad said quietly after a long period of silence. "Can you tell me who did it to you?"

I didn't move. I didn't say anything.

He didn't repeat himself.

There was a rap on the door, and it opened.

A nurse came in.

"Hello dear, I'm nurse White." She said to me kindly. "We placed a call to the Rape Crisis center, they're sending a counselor, and we called the Malibu PD, Special Victims Unit. Well we wait, We'll perform the examination and see if we can harvest anything as far as evidence goes." She said this mostly to my father.

That bugged me. I'm the one who had to go through this. What if I didn't want to be examined?

"Ok dear, I'm going to take you in to the other room so the examination can be done. Dr. Gold is available right now. Have you showered since the attack occurred?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "Well, maybe there's something. Let's go." I looked back at my dad. Mom wasn't here. She couldn't go with me. I didn't want to go alone. She stopped when she saw my head. "You don't want your father in there, do you? The Dr. will be in there. I can stay if you want."

I looked away, and she patted my back, causing me to flinch, before continuing out the door.

She entered the room only two doors down, with a bunch of medical equipment. The exam table had foot stirrups at the end, and a table with equipment stood at the foot, with a stool.

"I need you to undress over on this sheet," She indicated. "And put this gown on." She set a hospital gown on a table. "I'll be back in two minutes. And you'll need to take everything off."

She was gone, I was alone.

I slowly got up, and did what was asked, leaving the clothes on the floor, then sitting back in the wheelchair. She was back soon after, and she drew blood, and swabbed the inside of my mouth.

Then, she helped me on tot he exam table, and set up the screen so I couldn't see past my waist. I didn't have to put my legs up yet, and she went to get the doctor.

Nurse White came back with Dr. Gold (what is it with this hospital and colors?) who was apparently, a man.

I froze up.

"Ok, Miss. Stewart," He said. "I need you to put your feet up in the stirrups please. Nurse White?"

The nurse nodded, and hurried forward, to help me put them in, but I wouldn't move. I kept my legs squeezed tightly together.

"Miss. Stewart, please cooperate." She said.

The doctor rolled his eyes, and the two of them tried to get me to do what I was supposed to do, andI screamed loudly, and did the only thing I could think, and, well, my feet happened to connect with his face and her chin.

I was shaky, sweaty, and crying now, as the door was opened.

The door was behind where my head was.

"What is going on?!" My father roared, appearing at my side, taking my hand, and smoothing my hair out of my face. His glare was set angrily on the doctor.

Two women and a man followed him.

"What's wrong?" A woman asked. "I'm Holly, from the Rape Crisis Center."

"We were trying to start the exam, and she kicked us both in the face." The doctor hissed.

"Hello, Miley." She said Kindly, appearing next to me, behind my father. "It's ok, sweetie. Can you tell us what's wrong?"

I swallowed, and opened y mouth, surprised that my voice appeared, weak and raspy. "I-I want a w-woman doctor. And my dad to stay with me."

She smiled and nodded. "Of course, Miley. Nurse White, kindly page Molly. Dr. Gold, you can leave. Now." He glared at her, but left.

"Dr. Claire is with another patient." Nurse White said. "Dr. Gold is the only doctor avalible at this time."

"Then we'll wait." My father said firmly.

Holly nodded.

"And you should know better then to force a male doctor on a teenage _rape_ _victim_," The male who had entered said unkindly, then added, " '_Nurse_.' " as an afterthought.

Nurse White glared at them all, then left.

Holly turned back to me. "I'm sorry about that, Miley. Dr. Claire will be here as soon as possible. Until then, why don't you get down off of there."

She moved the screen, and dad helped me off, and in to a chair in the corner, where three chairs sat. He sat to one side, and Holly and the other two adults walked forward.

"Miley, this is Detective Carly Johnson, and Detective Shea McEntire. They're from the SVU branch of the Malibu police." Holly said. "Is it ok if they talk to you?"

I nodded, and Detective Johnson stepped forward, pulling the other chair to in front of my line of vision.

"Hi, Miley," She smiled. "You can call me Carly. I'm going to, like Holly said, ask you a few questions. It's important that you answer as many of them as truthfully as possible, but if you want to skip a question, just tell me, ok?" With another nod on my part, she went on. "Do you know where you were when you were raped?"

I thought. Traci wouldn't know who the hell Miley Stewart was.

"I can't tell you." I said quietly. "Next question."

"What time was it?"

I swallowed, thinking hard. "I-I can't remember." I mumbled, the tears stinging at my eyes again.

"It's alright, Miley," Holly cut in. "Don't be upset."

Carly nodded. "Did you shower after it happened?"

I nodded, looking down, and mumbled, "yes."

"Those clothes over there," Carly said, "They aren't the clothes you were wearing when you were attacked?"

"No. They aren't."

"Where are those clothes?"

"Where it happened." I lied.

"Where did you shower?"

"Where it happened." I answered.

"Okay." Carly nodded. "Do you know who raped you?"

I froze, gulping, and shook my head.

"Miley, I want to help you, and I cant help if you lie to me." She said softly.

"I'm not lying!" I lied. "I don't know."

"Yes you do. I know you do, Miley, and you need to tell me."

"I didn't even want to report it!" I sobbed. "I didn't want to come here, I just want the morning after pill. I want to go h-h-home!"

Dad immediately held me close. "It's ok, baby girl. It's alright."

Carly sighed. "Please get the examination done, Miley. If you do, it will be sealed, so if you change your mind..."

"I won't."

"You might. Just get it done, and then you can get the pill, and go home."

I looked down, before reluctantly agreeing.

Dr. Claire then arrived, all smiles.

Dad helped me back on the table, and after gathering my clothes in to evidence bags, the Detectives left the room.

The Doctor set up the screen, and then began. Dad sat facing me, in front of the screen, holding both my hands, and tried to get me to talk in between the Doctor's explanations of what was going to happen.

When the tears began to flow from my eyes, dad was there with a tissue, wiping them away, kissing my forehead.

Then it was over.

I was allowed to shower again, in a hospital shower, then changed in to clean clothes that dad had been getting from the closet before we'd left.

After I showered, a new nurse, Nurse Gregory gave me pain killers, and then gave me a nausea medicine before she gave me the morning after pill, so I would be in less danger of puking it back up, but she gave me a extra pill in case I did.

I was to take the second one twelve hours after the first, and if I got sick, take the extra. If I didn't, throw the extra out.

I sat in the wheelchair, and Jackson wheeled me out to the car, dad following. He helped me in to the car, and Jackson sat with me this time.

Holly followed us to the car, and handed me a sheaf of pamphlets and her card, telling me to call her anytime.

On the way home, dad stopped at the cell phone store, and got me a Blackberry, the one that I'd been wanting forever.

My cellphone was programmed to receive the Hannah line, and my own phone.

I held the new, sleek device in my hand.

If it'd been a month ago, I'd be texting Lily and Oliver, excited.

Oliver.

It hurt to think of his name, yet I'd been doing it.

When we finally got home, it was almost four o' clock.

Dad carried me upstairs to my room, and left to go make me something to eat.

As soon as he was gone, I took all the pamphlets Holly had given to me, and her card, and opened the drawer of my desk where I put all my jump papers, and dropped them on top, slamming the drawer shut, before I ran to my bathroom, and dropped in front of the toilet.

I sobbed as I expelled everything that had been in my stomach, and then as I dry heaved for hours.

Dad said, as he gently lay my aching, disgusting, limp body on my bed, and covered me with my blankets at eight o'clock at night that it was probably shock.

Me? I thought it was just my body, hoping that if it tried hard enough, I'd be able to cough up the memories of what happened, it'd be able to cough up whatever had possessed me to do whatever I'd done to make my friends not want me, and flush them down the toilet, to be trapped in the city's sewage system, and no longer be my problem.

Ha.

If only it were that easy.


	6. Chapter 6

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The next morning, when I woke up, it was nearing noon.

It was Monday. School day. But I didn't care. I never wanted to set foot in that place again.

I got up on shaky legs, and went to the bathroom.

I found the packet with the pill, and took the extra pill. I'd take the other one in twelve hours.

Then, I showered again.

I still felt dirty and horrible, and It wasn't the sweatiness or the puking from last night.

I wasn't a virgin anymore. It was almost as though I could feel his hands inching along my body, feel his lips on my skin. Feel his body part that should be castrated being forced inside of me.

Before I knew it, I was crying again, and shaking. I felt so weak all of a sudden, and slowly backed up against the white shower wall, and sunk to the floor, curled in a ball. I put my legs out in front of me, and slowly traced the blotchy black-and-blue bruises on my thighs with my fingers.

They matched his hands where he'd forced my legs open.

Curiosity got the better of me. I turned the shower off, and slowly got up, and stepped out.

I wrapped a towel around me, and went in to my room, stepping in front of my full length mirror, before letting the towel drop to the carpet.

Before this had happened, I had used to think that I wasn't bad looking. I wasn't beautiful, but I wasn't ugly, either.

Now all I saw was a ugly stranger I didn't know.

Starting at my feet, I surveyed myself. There were the bruises on my inner and outer thighs, that was as low as the bruising went. There were small bruises on my stomach that got more plentiful as I looked at my chest. Covered in dark, splotchy, ugly marks that had come as much from his mouth as they had from his fingers. My upper arms and wrists has bruises. My hair hung in thick, dark, wet ropes, that ended a little above my waist. The brightness in my blue eyes was gone, replaced by something that made me always want to drop my eyes to the floor. Even my lips looked different, because his had touched them.

I was looking in a mirror, but I didn't know who the girl I was looking at was. At all.

Numbly, I bent down and picked up my towel, and dried myself off.

I pulled on clean pajamas, and then towel dried my hair, and ran my fingers through it.

I lay back down in my bed, and grabbed my phone.

No new messages.

Not that I had thought there would be.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then it opened. Dad came in with a tray, and set it on my night table. I saw orange juice, and a sandwich.

He sat on the edge of my bed. "Hi." I said quietly.

"How do you feel?" He asked after a moment.

"How do you think I feel?" I asked looking at him. "Awful, daddy. I feel awful."

He sighed. "Maybe you would feel better if you told them who did it." He suggested.

"Carly and Holly put you up to this." I said quietly. "Well it's not going to work. I don't know who it is." I said slowly.

"Baby, I think you're lying."

"Well I think I don't care!" I snapped. "I don't know who raped me, dad! Just drop it, I don't want to talk about it." I said.

"Well I have a right to know some answers Miley. Like where were you after that concert?"

"A party." I answered, getting off of my bed, and walking aimlessly around my room.

"A party where?"

"I don't know. Traci brought me there."

"Did you drink? Were you drinking and you had sex and are trying to cover it up?"

I froze, my eyes filling with tears, and then turned and walked swiftly out of my room.

"Miley, wait!" He called, following me down the hall, as I took the stairs.

Sitting in my living room were Holly, and Carly.

"Miley!" Dad said, reaching me and taking my arm before I could leave the house.

I tore my arm away and looked up at him. "What?" I whispered, reaching up and wiping tears away.

"I'm sorry, but just answer me!"

"They put you up to this!" I yelled, pointing to the two ladies. "They did!" I yelled. Before he could speak, I went on. "I was raped!" I screamed. "Raped, dad! And if you, my own father doesn't even believe me..." I stopped, I didn't know what else to say. I took a shaky breath, "How could you think that of me?" I whimpered.

He looked ashamed, like he didn't know. "I'm sorry." He said, trying to hug me, but I backed away so he settled for placing his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry," He repeated, "But you usually tell me everything, Miley.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I can't tell you anything if I don't know the answers."

"Alright." He finally said. "You don't know."

I nodded, and then slowly made my way back upstairs, without saying a word to Holly or Carly.

--

That Wednesday, after Miley had been missing for going on the third day in a row, Oliver brought it up. It had been bugging him since Sunday.

"Lils," He said at lunch on Wednesday. "Do you know if they ever found Miley?"

He'd been worried.

"No." She said giving him a weird look. "If they hadn't I'm sure we'd hear about it. We all know the boyfriend coveting traitor's daddy would move heaven and earth to find his little princess. Besides, who cares?"

Oliver was shocked at Lily's indifference to the situation, and her comment. Well it was true that Mr. Stewart would move heaven and earth to find Miley, that was also true of both of their own parents. He was more shocked at what he called her, and the fact that, well...she was indifferent. She didn't care weather her own best friend was ok.

"I just...feel kind of bad. I stood her up, Lily." He said.

She looked up at him, and said curtly, "It's not like it was a date, Oliver." She said, her voice low. "She's Hannah fucking Montana! It's not like she was alone! She's probably just realized we hate her and is to coward to show her face."

Oliver looked at Lily, who had returned to her lunch, so she was unaware of the disgusted look on his face. "I have to go talk to Kunkle about a assignment," he muttered, dropping a kiss on her forehead as he got up. "I'll see you later."

Oliver walked off, after dumping his tray. He stood by his locker, his phone in hand.

Quickly, he made it so his number would appear as restricted, and he called Miley.

She answered on the last ring before it would go to voice mail. "Hello?" Her voice sounded different, he thought. It sounded...broken. He didn't say anything. "Hello?" She asked again, still not strongly. "Is anyone there?" He heard Mr. Stewart's voice in the background, telling her to hang up, it was probably no one, but she said, "Hello?" A few more times.

So she was home. She was safe. Oliver opened his mouth to respond to her 'Hello?'s but then hung up without saying a word.

--

Every night that week, it took me hours to fall asleep.

I tossed and turned for hours in to the night, and when I did finally achieve sleep, it was sleep plagued with vivid nightmares. Sometimes, I woke screaming bloody murder on my own. Other times, it wasn't until dad, who had given up sleeping in his room and was sleeping on my couch in my room, woke me up himself.

Sometimes, the dreams were of the actual events, only with an added twist. Once he'd left, covering me with the blanket, Lily and Oliver popped in my nightmare, whispering together, before pointing at me, and laughing, mocking. Then, that faded to black, and I was at a party, much like Traci's party, only the bodies were packed, with a empty circle in the center. They all laughed and cheered, Lily and Oliver in the front, as a girl screamed, sobbing.

Dream me fought her way through the crowd, and I watched through a glass dome, along with the laughing and cheering crowd, as I bled, cut open as if by invisible knifes, or as though there were people in there, harming me, tearing me apart by my seams, until there was nothing left to hold me together.


	7. Chapter 7

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For two weeks after it happened, I made no move to go to school, and dad didn't say anything of it either.

Carly, her partner, and Holly stayed away, though I knew they called, I could hear dad talking to them. But he didn't bug me, so it was all fine.

I spent my days shut up in my room. I was writing songs. Many of them were things I'd never show anyone, but I just had to get them out. When I wasn't in my room, I was at the beach. Everyone was at school, so it was empty, and anyways, I sat out on our private beach.

Dad was always watching, always hovering.

All Hannah events were canceled, and dad sent Jackson to school to pickup my work.

It wasn't until the Wednesday of the third week after it happened that dad brought it up.

It was at dinner one night. Well dad and Jackson talked about whatever it is that went on at Jackson's college, I sat and ate the fettuccine Alfredo, my favorite, quietly, unaware that they had ceased talking.

"You know, Miles, you should think about returning to school. The secretary's starting to complain. You don't want to have to go to summer school." Dad said gently. He always spoke like that to me. Like if he spoke normally, I might break.

I shrugged.

"The bruising is gone." He commented. "And You've missed two and a half weeks."

I shrugged again. "I'll think about it." I said quietly.

He smiled and says, "Good." and then lets it go.

Minutes later, I get up and walk back upstairs and too my room.

I pull out two old photo albums, and sit on my bed, opening one.

I smiled at the first picture I have of Lily, Oliver, and I.

We were ten. Six years ago. Looking at how things were now, it seemed so far away.

I went through the album, but was glad when it stopped before we even turned eleven. I'd gotten a camera from my mother, and had been obsessed with taking pictures – so there was many. Looking at recent pictures would be too much.

I opened the other album, a family album.

Soon later, I was in tears looking at pictures with mom in them.

"Hey." Jackson said quietly, I hadn't realized the door had been open.

"Hi." I said quietly. Ever since what'd happened, we hadn't spoken much.

He came in. "Can I look with you?" He asked. I nodded, and he sat beside me.

"I remember that." He said, smiling. It was pictures from my third birthday, somehow, the cake had fallen off of the counter on to me.

"Yea." I said, actually smiling. "It's my first memory. Mom and dad both thought it was hilarious, and memaw, Grandma Ruby, and aunt Dolly thought they were idiots." I turned the page, to where mom was holding me, and I was wiping cake on her, and she was laughing.

"I miss her, Jackson." I said, tears spilling over. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. "I miss her so much."

"I know, Miley." He said. "So do I. You're in so much pain and hurt...and Dad and I don't know what to do. She always knew what to do." He said. "I hate what happened to you. I should have protected you."

"It's not your fault." I told him, "You weren't even there. It's no one's fault except his."

"Who's Miley?" He asked softly. "Who's _his_?"

I shook my head, pulling away.

"Dad, carly and Holly didn't put me up to it." He said. "I just want to know, Miley. Who did this to my baby sister?"

"I'll tell you and everyone when I'm ready! If I'm ever ready! Until then...I can't, Jackson. I'm sorry. I can't."

"Ok," He said. "Ok."

"I...I think I'm gonna go to bed." I said quietly.

"Ok." He said, hesitantly hugging me, kissing my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miles."

I nodded. "Hey Jackson? Would you mind stopping by my locker tomorrow? I need my Chemistry book."

"No problem. Goodnight."

"Night."

--

Thursday, Oliver was running late to lunch. Deciding to stop by his locker before going to lunch, he was surprised when he saw Jackson at Miley's locker.

"Jackson!" He called, as Jackson went to shut the door and leave.

He turned, and waved. "Hey Oken," he said.

"What're you doing here?" Oliver wondered.

He held up a text book. "Miley needed her chem book," he told Oliver.

"Oh...hey, where is Miley? She's been out for almost three weeks. Is she ok?" Oliver asked.

Jackson paused. "Uh...yea. Under the weather. She should be back...soon." He said. Oliver noted his nervousness. "I gotta go, Oken. See you." And then Jackson was gone.

Oliver didn't believe him for one moment. Something had happened to Miley.

--

On Friday, I got up at six. I took a shower, I pulled clothes on. I did my makeup and hair, gathered my backpack, and I went downstairs.

Dad looked up surprised. "Miley." He said.

"I thought I'd go to school today, since it's Friday. So I have the weekend."

"Thats good!" He said, handing me a plate with pancakes. "Eat up, then I'll drive you to school."

I picked at my breakfast, and by the time seven rolls around, dump my barely eaten food in the trash, and get in my dad's car.

On the way there, he talks about how if I want to come home, just call and he'll come get me. It's all going to be ok.

He promises.

I hate empty promises, dad.

And it's not going to be ok. It's not even ok now.

I get him to let me go in myself, and I slowly get out of the car.

I feel everyone watching me as I walk in to school, and to my locker.

I've been gone for almost three weeks. There's bound to be rumors.

I'm glad when I get to my locker and Lily and Oliver both aren't there. I open it, and put my books away, and get them for my first class, English.

Then, I hear it. Oliver's voice. "Miley, you're back!"

And Lily appears beside me. She says nothing, doesn't acknowledge my presence.

"Miley?" Oliver asks again.

And suddenly, this is too much. I don't want to be here.

I slam my locker shut, and turn to face Oliver. I try to speak, to tell him to shut up, go to hell. But I can't. So instead, I reach up, and raise my hand back, and smack him across the face, before turning, and running the fastest I ever have, out of the hall, out of school.

I wish I could run out of those memories.


	8. Chapter 8

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I ran for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was just a few minutes. I wound up back home, where I burst through the door, calling, "Daddy?!"

I stopped just inside the door. He was there, on the couch, and had just stopped making out with Carly, the detective, when I walked in. I stopped, frozen. He couldn't kiss _her_! He couldn't be with _her_ of all people!

"Miley..." He said, standing, walking forward, but I just backed away and he stopped. "Miley, what's wrong?"

"So this is why you wanted me to go back to school." I cried. "So you could hang out with _her_."

"Miley, that is not the re-"

"Shut up!" I screamed. "Don't talk to me, I don't want to hear it!"

"Don't you talk to me like that young lady!" He said back, for the first time talking to me without the 'she's going to break' tone.

"I'll talk to you however I want to since _you_ think it's suddenly ok to date again! And her of all people!" I cried. "You can't date her! Not her!" I told him, backing away, out the door.

"You get back in this house, and don't try to act like you're the parent, Miley Ray." He said, reaching out to grab me by the wrist.

Instantly, it was as though I weren't at my house anymore.

I was back at Traci's.

_He grabbed my wrists tightly, forcing them above my head. "Please...Please don't do this..."_

"You can not tell me who I can and can not date, Miley Ray! And she has a name, it's Carly!"

_"See, I would stop...but where's the fun in that...?"_

"Now tell me why are you home and what happened!"

I could hear what my dad was saying, and I heard Carly speaking. "Robbie Ray, I don't think she's listening to you...I think she's having flashbacks! Let her go!"

And then he did, and I dropped my book bag, and I ran.

I wanted my mother. I needed my mother. That's all I knew, as I ran, and ran, and ran. It began to rain, pour rain, but I kept running.

But then, I was there. I sank to my knees in the wet grass, and slowly lay down.

The heart shaped ceramic stone loomed over me.

_RIP_

_Susan Stewart_

_August 18__th__, 1970 - February 16__th__, 2003_

_Loved wife, mother, and friend_

_Forever Loved_

_Never Forgotten_

With a start, I realized this was it.

It was February sixteenth today.

Today was the six year anniversary of my mother's death. And no one reminded me. And my father was spending it making out with another woman. The worst woman of all.

"I'm sorry, mommy." I sobbed in to the poring rain. "I miss you, mom. Why'd you have to go, why'd you have to get sick? It's not fair! Why couldn't God have taken some other woman who didn't have kids! I need you, momma, please, please come back to me." I sobbed. "Then dad will stop dating that awful woman, and...and it'll be normal! I want you back!"

The tears streamed heavily from my eyes, and I couldn't stop. I was freezing, and I knew I should go home, but I couldn't. I shut my eyes slowly.

The dreams came again.

The nightmares. But I didn't wake up. Instead, as I watched myself torn open and bleeding, the scene faded to black, and then, out walked my mother.

"I know you want me back." She said simply. "But you can't have me back. The dead can't come back to life, darlin'. This...is how it's supposed to be. Whats happening is happening for a reason. I have to go now." She said, and began walking away.

"But you just got here" Dream me said. "Momma! Come back!" But she was gone.

And then it flooded back in. More nightmares. This time, it was a memory.

I was five, we were in the pool. I couldn't swim, and Jackson looked away for a moment. I slipped under.

In the real memory, dad had jumped in and saved me.

But in the dream, he was just two feet away in the pool, with Carly.

Mom was standing there, yelling at him for betraying her. Jackson was cheering mom on.

No one noticed as I slipped under and never resurfaced.

--

Everyone watched as Miley hit Oliver. Everyone watched as she ran out of school.

Lily laughed coldly. "She's gone insane. You should report her, Oliver, violence isn't allowed."

"I...Maybe." Oliver muttered, and followed her to class.

The say went by slowly, and when school got out, he drove home to find Jackson there, talking to his mother.

"Oliver, Jackson wants to know if you've heard from Miley." Donna Oken said, when she saw her son. She was worried.

"Not since she ran out of school...why?" Oliver asked, setting his bag down.

"She ran away this morning and we can't find her." Jackson said. He was pale, worried.

"I-I'm sorry, Jackson, I don't know where she is." Olivia said. He too, was worried.

"Ok...if...if you hear from her.."

"I'll call." Oliver promised.

Jackson left, and Oliver went on with his afternoon. It wasn't until six at night that he remembered something she'd told himself and Lily.

'_When I'm really upset, I usually go to visit my mom.'_

And then he remembered it was the day her mother had died.

And he knew where she was.

-

He drove to the cemetery in the dark, rain pelting his car.

When he got there, he ignored how creeped out he was, and began carefully and respectfully running between the rows of headstones, searching for Miley.

Then he spotted a laying form of a person in front of one of the headstones.

He slowly approached.

There Miley slept, soaked to the bone, and shivering in her sleep.

He noted that even in her sleep, her face looked troubled.

He knelt beside her, a looked at her. She looked much the same...but so different at the same time.

His eyes read the headstone, and he silently said a prayer for Miley's mother, hoping she was at peace. then, he found himself saying one for Miley.

He didn't know what was wrong. He didn't know if it had had to do with more then what he and Lily were doing. But he prayed that she'd somehow find her way. Then, he gently picked her up, and carried her back to his car and buckled her in to the back seat.

He called Jackson's cell, and told him I'd found her at the cemetary, and that he was going to bring her home now.

She remained asleep for the whole ride, and even as he lifted her out of the car, and brought her to the door.

Jackson and Mr. Stewart were waiting at the door, and Jackson gently took her from him.

There was a woman that Oliver thought was somewhat familiar to him in the living room, but he shook it off. "Thank you, Oliver." Robbie Ray said quietly. "So much." He added, and Jackson headed up the stairs.

Olivier nodded, and began to talk. "Mr. Stewart, what happened to h--"

"I'm sorry son, I have to go be with her. Thank you again, so much."

And then he was shut out.

The ironicalness of the situation stood out to Oliver. Just Three weeks ago, he had wanted to be shut out of her life due to not knowing what to do.

Now, he wanted anything but.

--

When I woke up, I felt like I was floating. Someone was carrying me.

I didn't even think to scream. I couldn't. I was to wet, to tired.

It was dark out, but I was being brought to my house.

With that in mind, I became drowsy again.

Sooner or later, I heard murmurs, and I was transferred so someone else's arm. I thought I heard my dad's voice say 'Thank you, Oliver,' but then I remembered Oliver hated me, and knew I was, unfortunately, probably imagining it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the next chapter! You're being warned: Heavy content.  
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The morning came, and I felt like crap. Like, even more like crap then I had lately. My throat hurt, and I was coughing. Stupid rain.

I crawled out of bed, and pulled a robe on against the cold. The robe was hot pink. Bright. The complete opposite of my mood.

I walked down the stairs, and stopped. Carly was in the kitchen with dad. I stopped in front of the island, and dad looked up.

"Miley." He said, coming around the island, pressing his hand to my forehead. "You have a fever." He sighed. "That was not the smartest thing you've ever done." I just glared at him, and turned away.

"Maybe I should go." Carly said.

"You don't have to go," Dad said.

"Yes. She does." I snarled, my throat hurting even more.

"Miley!" He said, sounding angry.

"It's fine, Robbie...I have work today anyways." She said, and bade goodbye, and left.

"You and I need to have a talk, Miley Ray." He said, not so nicely.

"I can barley talk." I hissed, adding a whimpered "Ow."

"Then you sit and be quiet, and I'll talk." He said, pointing to the couch.

I wanted to much to remain standing, but felt so tired, I sat down anyways.

"I know you've been through a traumatizing experience, Miley, but that does not give you permission to act like you make the rules! I can date whoever I want to, and I don't need your permission!"

"Do you know what yesterday was?" My voice cracked so much, and was so soft. "February sixteenth, Dad!"

"I know."

"The...then how could you!" I cried.

"It's been six years Miley! It's time to move on!" He said.

"You move on!" I hissed, my throat searing. "I can't move on! Not form the rape, and not from mom's death! I don't want her in this house."

"This isn't your house. This is my house, and I'm the parent. And I say too bad. I love you, Miley. More then anything, you're my little girl. You know that. But I really like Carly!"

"WELL I DON'T!" I shouted.

"Well...I'm sorry, but that's too bad. Holly says you need to start going back to school. You can't live for the rape, Miley. You need to move on. You're going back to school. I'm sorry,l but I can't watch you sit there doing nothing another day! Once you aren't sick anymore you're going back. And I'm getting you a shrink. And...and I'm dating Carly! Now go take a shower. It'll help you feel better."

"No." I croaked. "Nothing will. Ever."

I ran up the stairs, and locked my door, then I locked my bathroom door, and I turned the shower on.

I undressed, but didn't get in.

I opened the cabinet, and took out a razor, and broke one of the blades out. Then the small sane part of me decided the speak out.

_Don't Miley...this isn't the answer._

But what if it is?

_Why would it be?_

It works for other people!

_What if you go to far. THIS is going to far. _

I won't. And no it's not.

Sane me tried to speak again, but I shut it up.

Then, I pondered.

Many of my shirts didn't cover my wrists. That was a no. I settled for my stomach.

I felt scared when I hardly felt the cut. Was I so empty I had no feelings? I watched with satisfaction as the red blood spilled form the small cut. After a moment, I washed it off, before getting in the shower. Surprisingly, I felt better once I got out.

But it wasn't the shower.

--

It took me a week to feel better from the cold. That marked a month missed of school.

That week, Carly was over our house when she wasn't working. Whenever she came over, before and after, I went to the bathroom, and the healing cuts on my stomach grew. I ignored everything she said, and every time dad mentioned a therapist, I left the room. I kept getting calls on my phone, but no one was there, and the number was always restricted.

The nightmares continued on, even worse, and every morning, the number of scars grew too.

On February twenty-third, Monday morning, dad woke me up.

I dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, and didn't bother with makeup. My hair went up in to a messy bun.

I didn't speak to my father on the way there, and as I walked down the hall, I looked ahead and ignored everyone. I heard the whispers, I heard the questions.

I got to my locker, where Oliver and Lily where, making out.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I continued on, and opened my locker, got my books, and ignored their stares and went to class.

I said nothing that entire day. Not a single word.

When I got home, I watched the red blood drop from the wound, and every pent up feeling was no longer there. It was all better.

I think dad thought the more Carly was around, I'd begin to like her.

She was over as much as possible now. But it didn't work. I continued to ignore her. I ignored everyone at dinner, I didn't say a word, and dad angrily ordered me to my room to complete my homework.

I'd already done it during lunch and study.

So I just lay there until it seemed late enough to claim tiredness and go to bed.

I was scared. I felt empty.

What had he done to me? What had I done to myself?

Everything began going downhill after they told each other they loved each other. Everything I'd feared but kept to myself when they began dating. Not only with the heart shattering news that Lily had gotten to Oliver before me, I realized that this was it. It was only a matter of time before they didn't want me. They wouldn't need me.

You think I was always so secure? Hollywood isn't the place to be if you want security. Add that to a past in Nashville of bullying and...I had a very minimal self esteem.

I never used to hate myself though.

That didn't start until...everything else did.

I scrambled out of my bed, and in to the bathroom, using shaky fingers to break another razor.

Pressing it to my stomach, I slowly sank to the floor, and watched myself bleed.

I was loosing everything now.

I'd lost my mother. I'd lost my friends. I'd lost my virginity. What very little self esteem I had had. My happiness. Now my father.

I was afraid to know what would come next.


	10. Chapter 10

**Here's another chapter. Enjoy please. Reviews are always appreciated. :)  
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**-Jen  
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I fell in to a routine.

Wake up, cut. Shower, get dressed, choke down food I don't taste. Dad drives me to school in silence. I say nothing at school, at all. Teachers call on me, I don't answer. Lily makes a few hissed mean comments, making me wonder. I sit in the girls bathroom at lunch, and do homework. During last period, study, I do the rest of my homework. Go home. Cut. Stay in my room until I have to eat dinner. If she's there, suffer though seeing that woman. Have dad get mad at me. Leave when he brings up therapy. Cut. Pretend to do the homework I'd finished. Ignore dad when he asks me about Hannah. Cut. Go to bed.

Then wake up, and begin the cycle again.

--

About a month after Miley started coming back to school, Oliver arrived at his house to see a unfamiliar car parked outside of his house.

Carefully parking in the driveway, he got out, and went inside.

"Well, Carly...it's a surprise to see you here." His mother was saying. "I'm guessing this isn't just a social visit."

"No...It's not. You know the Stewart family, right?" Oliver peeked in to see the blond lady he'd seen at Miley's house that night he'd found her in the cemetery.

Donna Oken nodded. "Yes, of course! Very nice family...Miley's a very sweet girl. My son, Oliver, he's been best friends with her for years! They moved here when the kids were about ten I think, about six years ago. Susan Stewart was a lovely woman...it's a shame what happened to her. Miley and her were really close. She was over here, and at Lily, her other best friend's house, a lot after it happened. She was crushed. So quiet for a while. She hasn't been over here in ages."

"What did happen to Mrs. Stewart?" Carly asked. "I know Robbie Ray mentioned they were expecting her death. But that never makes it any easier."

"I don't exactly know for sure...Sue didn't like to talk about it. Her, Heather Truscott, and I became really close in the short time she was here with them. I just know it was some form of cancer. It really crushed them all. Especially Miley – Jackson was back in school after a week and a half, she was out for about a month and a half. Oliver and Lily brought her work and helped her. And when she did go back, she had quite a few breakdowns. After a while she went back to normal. But she's never gone to school on the anniversary. Lily and Oliver always skipped school to go over there with her all day."

"Donna, are you close with Miley?" Carly then asked, very seriously.

"Well, sure...her godmother couldn't be here all the time. Heather and I kind of stepped in when she needed a mother figure and she couldn't be here. I miss that girl." Donna said.

"Then I need you to help me." Carly's voice was hushed. "Miley...hates me. I'm dating her father. And I met the family because...something happened, Donna. To Miley." Oliver listened closely. Maybe he'd finally know what was wrong! "You know I'm not allowed to talk about it, tell you what exactly. But my job...my precinct..."

"Oh god..." Donna whispered. "Not..."

Oliver inwardly swore. He didn't know what Carly worked for. Gr.

"I'm afraid so. She...she's a mess. She doesn't talk, barley eats. Robbie Ray doesn't know what to do, I think he's about to go crazy. She says she either doesn't know or can't remember the details...but I think she's lying. No, I know she is. Maybe she'll tell you. He knows she'd tell her friends...but she's shut them out too. And she has no one, Donna. And I've seen what happened to people who don't talk about it. Please...please at least try. I don't know what to do anymore, and I don't want it to affect her anymore then it already has."

Oliver swallowed the lump in his throat, and he slowly climbed the stairs, and lay on his bed.

Something had happened to Miley. Something horrible.

He knew what Robbie thought – that she'd tell at least Lily, if not both of them – was correct. But she hadn't shut them out.

They'd shut her out.

--

I barely spoke to anyone at all now, afraid I'd just say something wrong. My thoughts were always jumbling together, strengthening my empty feeling. As my stomach filled with healing cuts, they moved to my arms. I always sported long sleeves.

On the two month mark of the...accident, I was in school.

Everyone had pretty much come to accept the new me. I spoke not one word at school. I got by with as few words as possible at home.

At home, I stayed in my room. It was what happened.

Carly became a more and more routine presence in my house, and I stayed in my room more.

I was sitting in Chemistry, when there was a knock on the door. All heads turned, and there was Oliver's mother, with a visitor pass.

"Oken, you can-" Ms. Kunkle began, looking at Oliver.

"No, actually, I'd like to speak to Miley." Donna said. My brow furrowed. Me?

Kunkle sighed. "Alright. Maybe she'll speak for you. Go ahead, Stewart."

I slowly rose from my chair, and walked out of the room, eyes on my feet.

"Come on." Donna said, shutting the classroom door. She lead me to the empty commons, where we ate lunch. "Sit with me." She asked, and so I did. "How are you?" She asked, sitting beside me. I shrugged. She sighed. "Miley...you know I'm a detective, right?" She asked.

I stiffened, but nodded. I'd forgotten.

"I've seen your file, Miley." She said softly. "I know what happened to you."

"So?" I whispered.

"And I know you claim to not remember, or not know some of the details. And I also know that you're lying, Miley."

"And how do you know that, Donna? You don't!"

"Carly thinks you ar-"

"Well...well Carly's a quack!"

"Carly is a very good Detective, and a very nice person, Miley. She's worried about you. She asked me to talk to you-"

"Well If she was such a good detective she would investigate and find out that I'm telling the truth! I don't know the details, and If I did, I don't have to tell her, or you, or anyone!"

"Miley, you are like the daughter I don't have!" She said. "I'm worried about you!"

"And I appreciate that, Donna...but it doesn't change anything." I told her, getting up, but turning around to tell her " And you didn't see the file. She told you. That's violating my rights."

"You don't have to be alone, Miley." She whispered, as I turned around to go back to class. I stopped for a moment, before continuing on, whispering to myself, "Yes I do."

--

At dinner that night, when I walked down the stairs, there was Carly.

As always, she smiled, and greeted me. "Hello, Miley."

Everyone was shocked when I actually answered, sliding in to my chair. "Hello, Carly." I didn't smile, but picked up my fork. Then I paused. "Oh yea. For future reference, I'd appreciate if you wouldn't violate my right to privacy. You had no right to tell Donna Oken what happened."

She flushed, but didn't look away. "I did what I had to do."

"It wasn't your place to do it. I have the right to do and say what I want to."

"You have the right to put this guy in jail, but you aren't. I don't think you use your rights very well." Carly said calmly. "I think you should tell me who it was."

"Well I think you're a quack who should go. To fucking_. Hell_." I hissed, looking up at her.

I was out of my chair before dad started yelling, and was already at the stairs by the time he told me to go to my room.


	11. Chapter 11

**I had a little writer's block, but here's the next chapter. **

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As expected, the knock came on the door, and in came dad. He wasn't yelling though. He heaved a sigh, and sat on the end of my bed. "We need to talk."

"No." I said.

"Miles...this is getting out of hand. Your mama is gone." He sad, and I winced. "She's gone, and she isn't coming back. And I don't like it any more then you do. I loved her Miley – I still do. But I can love Carly too."

"I just don't like her. Please leave, I want to be alone."

"That's all you ever want anymore Miley. But you don't have to be alone, Miley."

I said nothing, and after a while, he got up, and kissed the top of my head. "I love you Miley. I always have, always will. You know that. At lease I hope you do. I just don't know what to do anymore."

I thought he was still there, but when I turned over after ten minutes, he was gone, the door shut, no trace, the words not even hanging in the air, proof of how alone I really was.

--

The routine went on for another two weeks, a never ending cycle.

Wake up, cut.

Shower, get dressed, choke down food I don't taste.

Dad drives me to school in silence. I say nothing at school, at all.

Teachers call on me, I don't answer.

Lily makes a few hissed mean comments, making me wonder.

I sit in the girls bathroom at lunch, and do homework.

During last period, study, I do the rest of my homework.

Go home.

Cut.

Stay in my room until I have to eat dinner. If she's there, suffer though seeing that woman.

Have dad get mad at me.

Leave when he brings up therapy.

Cut.

Pretend to do the homework I'd finished.

Ignore dad when he asks me about Hannah.

Cut.

Go to bed.

Wake up, cut.

Shower, get dressed, choke down food I don't taste.

Dad drives me to school in silence. I say nothing at school, at all.

Teachers call on me, I don't answer.

Lily makes a few hissed mean comments, making me wonder.

I sit in the girls bathroom at lunch, and do homework.

During last period, study, I do the rest of my homework.

Go home.

Cut.

Stay in my room until I have to eat dinner. If she's there, suffer though seeing that woman.

Have dad get mad at me.

Leave when he brings up therapy.

Cut.

Pretend to do the homework I'd finished.

Ignore dad when he asks me about Hannah.

Cut.

Go to bed.

And on and on.

Two and a half months after the accident, however, a change in the routine came. I'd been found in the girl's bathroom, and had been forced to the commons during lunch.

I sat alone at a table, doing the homework, and not eating, when a voice interrupted me. "So Miley, I noticed you haven't been at lunch lately." I looked up to see Amber.

"So have I, Amber!" Ashley said. "I'm so sorry Miley. It must be awful. And having to wear those clothes! Did you finally realize your clothes were getting a bit to tight?"

"It must suck getting fat." Amber said.

I looked back at my homework.

"Hey! It's not fun if you don't respond to the insults!" Amber hissed. "Why don't you talk anymore? Stupid little mute."

"She thinks she's too good for us, Amber." Lily said, as she and Oliver walked by hand in hand. "And she's probably not just getting fat. The boy crazy idiot probably went and got herself knocked up." Lily laughed coldly.

Anger boiling, I stood up, and faced Lily, and pulled my fist back, then shot it forward, it came in to fast, hard contact with her face.

She let out a yell, and I turned, and ran. I was in trouble, but I didn't care. I suddenly couldn't take it anymore.

I ran out of school, and out of the parking lot. I didn't go home, but I just kept running until I couldn't. I found myself outside of a drug store, and I went in, and bought bottled water.

I drank it sitting outside on a bench, thinking.

By the time I began to slowly walk home, it was nearing five. I hadn't paid attention to my phone.

It took me over an hour to walk home, asking directions since I'd had no idea where I was.

It was six fifteen when I arrived there, and dad was waiting, Jackson and Carly were too.

Dad opened his mouth, and then stopped, walking forward, pulling me in to his arms for a long hug.

When he let go, I asked, "What was that for?"

"Stop running off!" He said, his voice angry. "You don't know how worried I was, Miley! I get a call at noon from school saying you punched Lily and the face and then ran away! What has gotten in to you, Miley?! She didn't do anything! You just...punched her!"

"She provoked me!" I yelled.

"Miley, don't like! The whole school was there." He said sadly. "This is getting out of hand. You need help."

"I don't need help." I said stubbornly. Then, suddenly, I felt sick. "Can I go to my room? Please."

"Yes. And stay there." He ordered.

I hurried up the stairs, and fell over my toilet, becoming sick.

I never puked unless I had the stomach flue. Ever. And I know I didn't have the stomach flu. I scrambled up, and rinsed my mouth out, flushing the toilet, and stripped my shirt off, and stood in front of the mirror sideways.

I had gotten bigger. My heart was beating fast, and out of control. I hurriedly pulled the shirt back over my head, and ran out of the bathroom, to my desk. I pulled the drawer open, and threw old school papers, old notes, and Hannah papers, until I found the paper's I'd carelessly shoved there two and a half months ago.

I found the one about the morning after pill, and scanned it. There it was, on the first page in bold.

I slowly walked to my bed, and sand down on to it, holding the pamphlet, thinking.

I'd been to preoccupied to notice the absence of the need to tell my dad to get me tampons and pads.

Angrily, I tore the pamphlet in to piece upon piece that flew like confetti around my room. But the words were still clear in bold in my mind.

_**'The Emergency contraceptive pill is NOT one hundred percent effective as it reduces the risk of pregnancy only seventy-five to eighty-nine percent.' **_


	12. Chapter 12

**Here's the next chapter. **

**I know there's at least two POSSIBLY three chapters left to this story, at least that's what I'm looking at right now. I'm pondering over a sequel. Lemme know what you think? Enjoy the chapter!  
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I don't know how long I sat on my bed. It was as though I was in a trance. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak.

Hell, I couldn't even cry. All I could do was sit there, staring off in to space. Everything happened to me. _Everything_. It was like I couldn't catch a break. Then, something I had said what seemed like so long ago came to mind.

_"Daddy let's face it...this family is one in a million central!"_

Oh how wrong I was. This _family_ wasn't one in a million central. _I _was one in a million central. Everything happened to me.

I became a pop star.

I lost my mother.

I lost the guy I liked to my best friend.

I was shunned by my best friends.

I was...attacked.

And now this. The pill that was seventy-five to eighty-nine effective at preventing pregnancy and I had to be part of the twenty-five to eleven percent it _didn't_ work for.

Why couldn't it not work for the people who took it because their condom broke, or the people who took it because they didn't use a condom at all? Why did it have to happen to me?

My stomach began churning again, and I ran in to my bathroom. After flushing, brushing my tach amd washing my face, I looked in the mirror for a moment. I was still a stranger to myself.

I opened the medicine cabinet, and looked at my razors.

I felt so numb, so empty, it's like my skin ached to feel the razor. But I shut the cabinet, and slowly walked out of my room and downstairs to have what I assumed would be an awkward conversation with my dad.

He and Carly sat on the couch. Thankfully, there was no kissing, and the lights were on. "Dad." I said, my voice toneless.

He turned, and saw me there. "Is something wrong?" He asked, seeing my face.

I gulped. "I'm late."

His brow furrowed. "Late for what?"

Arg, make this more awkward for me and force me to spell it out, why don't you, dad.

"My period." I told him, still with no emotion. If I pretended I didn't care, it would be easier. "It's late this month, and hasn't come at all the past two months."

I could tell he found this awkward. We never really talked about it. Aunt Dolly had explained the birds and the bees to me, and when I had run to my father at age twelve telling him "Daddy, it came!" he'd promptly called Donna and Heather. We'd worked out a system. The week it was to come, I simply wrote 'tampons' and 'pads' on to the shopping list on the fridge, and he got them. I'd gone with him the first time, and showed him which boxes. He placed them in my bathroom.

I got what I needed, with no embarrassing chatter.

"Uh...doesn't that happen sometimes? Irregularity? You're under stress." He stated.

"Daddy, I've always been under stress. With...Hannah...and Mom...and...I've never been late or missed a period before. Ever. They come like clockwork every month and they have since I was twelve. Until now." I said, my 'I don't care' attitude shattering beneath me. "My period isn't coming, I'm getting bigger, I got sick earlier...I never get sick daddy." I said, my voice breaking, the tears finally overflowing. "I-I think I'm p-p-pregnant."

"No!" Dad said, shooting up. He walked around the couch, and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You can't be pregnant, Miley! You can't! Besides, it's not possible, you go the morning after pill." He said. "You aren't pregnant!"

"Robbie, the pill isn't one hundred percent effective." Carly murmured. "I'll go to the drug store," She said, as dad stood, his hands on my shoulders, staring at me in disbelief. "I'll get some tests." She added, and grabbed her purse, leaving.

I felt like my skin was begging to feel the razor blade, my eyes were beginning to see the blood, to assure me that I was something.

"Why is this happening to me, daddy?" I sobbed. "Why is everything happening to me?"

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but instead, wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and said nothing, not knowing the answers any better then I did myself.

--

When I woke the next morning, I was confused, but my questions where answered when someone knocked on the door, and in came Carly. She stood in the doorway, obviously wondering what I might do.

"Hi." She said softly. "You fell asleep before I got back. Your dad put the tests in your bathroom."

I nodded, looking away. "Thanks." I said. "Tell him I'll be down...soon."

I heard the door close, and then I got up, and went in my bathroom. The CVS bag was on the counter. I opened it, and pulled out three different boxes, three different pregnancy tests. Luckily, I really had to pee, so I took them all quickly, and set them on the counter.

Washing my hands, I went in to my room, and through the doors to my balcony.

The day was bright and sunny, but I felt empty, lost, alone. I wished the sun would just go away and leave me in my sorrow.

I heard the beeping of the timer, annoyingly alerting me I had to go look at what could make my life so much harder.

I walked back in to my room, and through to my bathroom, and took a deep breath.

I looked down, and swallowed back the scream that wanted to burst from me as I gathered all three of the tests, and walked downstairs.

All three of them; meaning Dad, Jackson, and Carly; were sitting at the table, waiting.

They watched as I silently entered, and walked over there. I dropped the three tests on to the table, and muttered, "Going to the beach." Before walking out.

In my pajamas, which consisted of Soffee shorts and a tank top which I now realized was tighter then normal, I walked to the beach. Being thankful that where I went was near empty, I sank in to the soft sand, knees up to my chest, and I wrapped my arms around my knees. The tears began to fall steadily down my face in rushing rivers that didn't want to stop.

Why me?

_Why me?_

After about an hour of useless crying, I got up, and began to slowly walk home.

When I got there, Carly's car was gone, Jackson was nowhere to be seen, and Dad pulled me in to his arms.

I clung to him tightly, my face buried in his chest, and the tears came renewed, I choked out, "What do I do, daddy?"

"We'll figure this out," He murmured softly. "I promise. Abortion?"

"I can't!" I said automatically. "Daddy I can't kill a baby...my baby. Thats not...not an option." No matter how much I wish it was.

"Well then there's adoption. We'll figure this out, Miley. I know we will."

I didn't answer, because it was quite possible that no, we wouldn't figure this out.

At this point in time, my life was an all time low. Everyone said there was no where to go but up...I wondered if that would happen for me. I wondered if it was even a possibility. My life has just been spiraling out of control, flying away from me piece by piece in a downwards spiral drop.

For you to go up, you have to stop going down.

To go up, you had to reach rock bottom, and I was terrified that no matter what had happened, I wasn't done going down next.

If hacking away at your stomach and arms with a razor wasn't rock bottom...

...well, I was afraid to know what _was_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Alright. Here's the next chapter. This one is a very very very very very very BIG part of the story. Please enjoy, and please please PLEASE review. **

**Enjoy!  
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**-Jen **

**STOP:**

** WARNING: Heavy content. Read at own risk. You've been warned. **

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That afternoon, dad called a doctor's office and got me an appointment. I was nervous – If I had to get an ultrasound, then I was screwed. It was with relief that dad informed me they were booked tight today and could only fit me in to perform a real pregnancy test. I'd have to get scar be gone ointment at the drug store.

I was mad it wasn't a school day. It was Saturday, meaning people would probably be out. Teens at my school had jobs. I didn't want to be seen going in to a OB-GYN.

I sat in the front seat of the car, staring out the front windshield. The sun was bright, sparkling beautifully down on the distant blue ocean. Small groups of teenagers walked together in and out of small eateries and the shops that stretched along the road, or towards the sunny beach.

Dad pulled in to the parking lot of the Doctor's office, and I got out, and rushed in.

I quietly went up to the reception desk, and gave them my name.

"Miley Stewart." I said dully.

The lady sitting there looked at me over the rim of her hot pink glasses, and I knew what she was thinking. Something about my age, or how I was a slut or something. She clipped a paper to a clip board, and shoved it in to my hand, and gestured at the pens in a cup.

"Miley," Dad placed his hand on my shoulder, having caught up with me. "It's ok."

I numbly nodded, and let him guide me in to a chair.

I looked at the form.

_Malibu, California Obstetrics-Gynecology _

_Please fill in form as completely and accurately as possible. _

_Full Name: _

_Date of Birth:_

_Address:_

_Insurance provider:_

Those ones were easy enough to fill in. Well, except for the one about insurance. I had to have my dad's help. Then came the other questions. What was the approximate date the child was conceived. Was it conceived naturally. Did you take anything against getting pregnant.

"Daddy." I whispered.

He looked over my shoulder, and nodded, taking it from me.

I couldn't fill it out. If I thought about the date, I'd think about the day, and I didn't want that. I couldn't do that.

The room was filled with women. Some had men with them, some had small children. I was the only apparent teenager, and it felt as though they were all staring at me. "Miley Stewart." My name was called, and I stood. Dad came with me and I was handed a plastic cup with a label and my name on it. "You can go in there, dear," The nurse said, pointing towards a bathroom.

After I returned the peed in cup to the nurse, we were brought to a room to wait.

"Daddy?" I asked quietly. "What're we going to do?"

"Adoption." He said. "That's the obvious choice. You can't be a mother, Miley. You'll only be turning seventeen about a month after this baby will be born. You can not raise a child."

I swallowed. That killed the question I'd been going to ask next. '_Do you think I'd be able to keep my baby?'_

If the test came back positive (I still held on to the tiny tiny chance that maybe, just maybe, all three tests had been duds) I didn't know what I wanted to do. I wanted to keep both options open...It was unclear at this point, however, weather or not I could, seeing as how my father phrased what he'd just said.

A knock on the door broke in to my thoughts. "Hello, Miley, Mr. Stewart, I'm Dr. Brown." A nice looking woman said, walking in. "We have the results of your test."

"And?" I asked, holding my breath.

"You are indeed pregnant, Miley. About two and a half months." Dr. Brown said.

All hope fell away. I nodded.

"I'll write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and give you some pamphlets. We won't do an ultrasound until twelve weeks, so you can make an appointment for two weeks from now." She said, putting stuff in a plastic bag, and then turning to the computer to send the prescription in.

Later, armed with the pamphlets on what to eat, how much weight I should gain, and what to expect, and a bottle with prenatal vitamins, I shut myself in my room.

Slowly, I made my way to my balcony, and sat in a chair, placing my hands on my stomach, I looked down, softly breathing out, "_I can't believe this is happening."_

--

Aside from more morning sickness, the weekend passed uneventfully.

Well, that, and my decision I had to stop cutting. There was a baby in my stomach. I couldn't hurt my stomach.

I got up on Monday, like the past weeks, and dug out sweat pants, and one of Hannah's old merchandising T-shirts from my last tour. It was big before, but not it was still roomy, but it wasn't too tight.

I left my hair down and wavy, and didn't bother to put any makeup on. I swallowed the prenatal vitamin with water, and then went downstairs.

Carly wasn't there, I guessed she was working.

"Good morning!" Dad sounded surprised.

I shrugged in response to what I knew was coming. "I'll expect I'll miss school as I get further along."

He nodded. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Ugh, nothing, I feel sick enough without food."

"Saltines?"

"Yes, please."

He handed me the sleeve of crackers. "You should take it with you to school." He advised.

"Speaking of school and the punching Lily thing..."

"Don't tell anyone, but I told them you were under a lot of stress and what you said about her talking about you, and they let you off with a warning. And Miles, what was it that Lily said?"

"Oh look at the time, Jackson's probably waiting, better get to the driveway! HE said he'd drive me. Bye daddy." I said, and scooted out of the house in to Jackson's car.

He was indeed waiting, and was silent as we pulled out of the driveway.

"So," He finally said. "Pregnant."

I nodded, echoing him. "Pregnant."

"Are...are you getting a..."

"I'm not getting an abortion, Jackson." I said quietly. "I could never."

He nodded. "Good. I mean...I could see why you would if you wanted to but..."

"It's fine, bro. I got it."

"I'm here for you, Miles. I mean...I know we never really got along all the time...but you're my baby sister. I love you." He said, as he pulled up to the school.

"I know you are," I said, turning to look at him. "Thanks. And...I love you to, Jackson. A lot." I said, hugging him.

"Have a good day," He said, hugging me back. "If you want out, text me, I'll get out of class and come get you." He promised.

I laughed. "Thanks. See ya!" I got out, and slowly walked in to school, surprisingly...calm. Oh, how quickly that changed.

The giggles and whispers and squealing usually only associated with one thing at this school began to attack my ears.

As I neared my locker, there he was. With my old best friends. They were replacing me with him? Him? Why him... why not dandruff Danny, or...Pimply Paul.

I'm sure they had better personalities then that monster! I had broken in to a cold sweat, my body was shaking. I couldn't go over there. The whispers and giggles where in my ears, all I could hear, much louder then I should. I felt as though my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I wanted to scream.

And then, his eyes found at me, and he smiled, nodding at me, winking.

"Stewart?" I dimly heard Kunkle's voice over the whispers. "Miley? Are you alright?"

I managed to shake my head. "N-nurse." I mumbled.

"Johnson!" She snapped, "Get the nurse, tell her to bring a wheelchair." I felt her arm around my shoulders. "Miley, it's alright, take deep breaths. Can you hear me?"

I numbly nodded, but I barley could over the excited whispers. I wanted to tell them not to be excited. He's a monster. I wanted to tell them what he did to me.

But all I did was listen to their excitement as Kunkle and the nurse forced me in to the wheelchair.

_"Jake Ryan's back at school!"_

_--_

"I really think I should call your father, Miley!" The nurse said, as I insisted I could go to class, a hour later.

"I'm fine. It's just...nerves." I told her. "Test today. I need to go take it!"

"Well ok..." She said uncertainly. "If you feel faint or sick at all, come straight here..." She said, giving me a pass.

At my locker in the empty halls, I stuffed all my books in to my bag so I wouldn't have to come back.

That day was the longest day in history.

He was in every one of my classes, though thankfully we weren't near each other.

I was out of my seat as soon as the bell rang, and steered clear of him. I spent lunch in the bathroom, and as soon as school was out, I ran home.

"Hey baby girl, how was your day?" Dad asked.

"Fine." I said shortly.

"Good! You're brothers at some study group thing. I'm making some dinner for you, I'm going to a meeting with Hannah's company. Do you want to be in the Bahamas or the Caribbean taking a rest?"

"Uh...Bahamas." I said. "I've actually been there, so we have pictures."

"Good thinking." He said. "After the meeting I'm going to dinner with Carly...we'll be back around 6:30. I have the cell if you need me." He said, pocketing his Blackberry and wallet, as he headed for the door. He kissed my forehead, then paused. "Will you be ok alone?"

I gulped, but nodded.

"Alright...I'll call and check in. Love you." He said.

"Love you too, daddy. Bye!" I said, and as soon as the car was gone, I shut every set of doors, and locked them, and turned the security alarm on.

I ate what dad had made me (mashed potatoes, my favorite) and watched some TV.

It was four by the time I headed up stairs, leaving all the lights on, even though it was still light out, and gripping my Blackberry in my hand.

I entered my room, and the closet I'd left open this morning caught my eye.

I hadn't set one foot in the Hannah closet in ages. I walked over there, and separated the clothes, and slowly opened the doors, flicking the light on.

Even with all the lights on, it looked dull. Empty. I walked to the couch, and sat, looking around.

The backup Hannah wig sat on the stand on the table, along with one of Lola's wigs. The makeup I'd last used for the last concert sat on the vanity. Hannah's awards sat on shelves and hung on the wall. Her bright colorful clothes on the racks, her many pairs of shoes in their place.

Everything perfect, everything in it's place.

My eyes landed on a picture frame on the vanity. I got up, and went over there, and took it in to my hands. It was a picture of Hannah, Lola, and Mike.

I looked at me, arms around both of them. Their arms around me. Everything had been perfect.

Then, weeks later, it had happened.

Then, I realized something.

All of my pain, all of my hurt, all of what had happened was Hannah's fault.

If I hadn't become Hannah, we wouldn't have moved to California. We'd be back in Crowley Corners. I'd be friends with Leslie and Hailey. Maybe I'd be with Travis. I wouldn't have met Lily and Oliver. I never would've gone to Seaview Middle school, I never would have guest starred on _Zombie High_.

Then, the framed photo on the wall caught my eye. Still holding the one of Hannah, Lola, and Mike, I grabbed the one off of the wall.

Hannah and Jake after the Teenie awards.

Thats when something inside of me broke.

The frame of the once three happy friends smashed to the floor, the one of Hannah and _HIM_ flew against the wall. In one sweeping motion, I'd knocked all of Hannah's trophy awards tot he floor.

One by one, I plucked the framed awards off of the wall, and _smash_, _smash, smash_ they hit the walls, the floor, tables. I threw all the make up from the vanity across the room, blush powder dusting the room.

I stepped on broken glass as I walked to the shoe rack, and began chucking them everywhere.

"IT'S ALL," I threw one shoe, "HANNAH'S," another few shoes, "FAULT!" I screamed, a few more pairs of shoes flying in all directions.

Screaming, my mind flying in one hundred different directions, Hannah's designer clothes were pulled from hangers, ripped to shreds, tossed around the room.

I threw bottle after bottle of expensive perfume, lotion, and face cream against the wall until the room was so perfumed I was getting a headache, but I wasn't in any mind to care.

Silver, gold, beaded jewelry was tossed everywhere and anywhere. And then my eyes landed on it. The key to the whole secret.

The wig.

I knocked Lola's off of the table, and seized the blond hair. My real hair was a mess, in my face, as I tore the hair from it's fabric scalp, destroying what I had once protected so dearly.

When I was done with the Hannah closet, I moved to my room.

All my make up, all my books, all my shoes, clothing, and everything went every where. Tears where streaming down my face as I ripped pictures and posters from the walls. All I could do was destroy.

When there was nothing left in my room, I ran in to the hall, my feet seared with pain. I knocked down whatever I could on my way downstairs. Plants, pictures, trinkets. It wall went down, except when I realized something had been precious to mommy.

I got to the living room, just as dad got in the door. I ignored him, and began my rampage of destruction. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, my vision clouded my tears I was surprised I could see what I was doing as I knocked things over.

"Miley!" Dad was yelling. "Miley stop!" He begged, he sounded terrified. He tried to grab my arm, I ripped it away.

It was a game for me. Don't get caught as I destroyed everything I could reach.

I heard dad begging me to calm down, to stop, his voice had tears in it.

I didn't know what I was screaming, but I knew I was. And then, I was grabbed by people in all directions.

I grabbed my arms away again, lashing out at everyone who was trying to grab me. It was Jake. I knew it was Jake, he came for me, he was here to hurt me again.

I scratched, I kicked, as I was forced on to what felt like a bed, and my arms were forced to my sides. I screamed, as straps were wrapped around me. I couldn't move, and someone was holding my head in place as I tried to move my head every which way, and something was wrapped around it so I couldn't move my neck either.

I screamed. About how it was Hannah's fault. About how he was after me. He, he, he. I never said his name.

I screamed to be let go, I screamed for daddy to help me, for Jackson to help me. I screamed for mommy to help me.

No one did. I was alone, like I'd always known. Everything was gone. I started screaming that too.

So this is what rock bottom felt like.


	14. Chapter 14

**Kaaay. Here's the next chapter...there will be one more after this. **

**As far as a sequel goes, Its up to you...do you want a sequel? I have one in the planning stages. If you want it...no problem! **

**Review please!**

**Enjoy:D**

**-Jen  
**

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Robbie Ray Stewart watched, helpless, as his daughter insanely ran around the living room, knocking things over, destroying things. And she was screaming, a loud, horrible scream amid the screams that were saying something. His baby was in pain, and he couldn't stop it.

Carly had used a walkie talkie she always had, calling an ambulance, as he tried to get through to his daughter.

"There's nothing you can do," Carly told him, face pale, voice a whisper, as she grabbed his arm before he tried to grab Miley again. "She's not Miley right now, Robbie...Miley's gone at the moment."

No. That was Miley, his Miley, and she was hurting.

He went to try to get her to stop again, but then, the door opened, and two paramedics ran in, a gurney with them, and they went over to her, grabbing her. She fought, screaming that _he_ was trying to get her, _he_ was after her, it was _him_.

One of the paramedics grabbed her arms, but she grabbed them away, scratching, hitting kicking.

They grabbed her arms and leg's again, lifting her on to the gurney, and held her down, securing straps around her ankles, knees, waist, under her chest, and across her shoulders, her hands and arms secured within the straps.

With the ability to open nothing else, she began flailing her head around like crazy.

Carly stepped up, holding her head in place. "Get a neck brace," She ordered, "Before she hurts her neck."

"Yes Detective," A paramedic said, and ran to the ambulance, coming back with one, which Carly helped to secure around Miley.

"Bring her to Los Angeles Medical." Carly then ordered them, then turned to Robbie Ray as they began to bring her out to the ambulance. She was still screaming and trying to fight the restraints. "The policies of LA medical will allow you to stay with her in the psych ward...Malibu's are very restricted. You go, I'll wait for Jackson." She ordered.

He nodded, and ran after Miley, getting in to the back of the ambulance, where he listened to his daughter's screams, praying that God make her ok.

--

Outside, as Miley was wheeled out of her house, screaming, begging, crying, screaming, a group of teenagers had been walking by on their way out of the beach.

Amber and Ashley watched with something like amusement as they watched.

By the next day, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the students of Seaview High.

Lily and Oliver where at their lockers, talking with Jake, when Ashley ran over. "Hey guys," She said, winking at Jake. "Did you hear about Miley?!"

"What about Miley?" Oliver asked quickly.

"Amber and I were walking home from the beach, and we were walking past her house, and there was an ambulance there. We heard screaming, and a few minutes later two ambulance people brought out a stretcher. Miley was on it." She said, smirking.

"What?! Why? What happened?" Oliver asked.

"She went senile!" Amber said, popping in. "she was strapped to the stretcher, and had some neck brace on, and we think she tried to kill herself. The paramedic said something in a walkie talking about alerting the psych ward. Miley was screaming at the top of her lungs."

"What was she screaming?" Lily asked. Oliver wanted to smack her. She didn't sound concerned, she sounded...amused.

"Sometimes she was just...screaming. Other times she was begging for her mother or father to help her...she called them mommy and daddy, pathetic, huh? And her mother's like, dead!" Ashley said, before Amber took over.

"And the other times, she was yelling 'It's all Hannah's fault.' I don't know who the hell Hannah is, but Miley's sure looking to push her insanity off on someone else!" Amber said.

Oliver listened to Lily's laughter, and couldn't take it anymore. "I'm feeling sick." He said. "I'm going to go to the nurse."

Once at the nurse, he informed her that he felt sick, and got his mother to give her permission for him to go home, and he drove home.

"Alright," his mom said when he walked in. "What's really wrong?"

Oliver let his book bag drop to the floor, and coughed. "I'm sick...cough...cough..."

"Very funny." Donna said. "Oliver...what's wrong?"

Oliver looked down, then asked. "Theres...rumors going around school. About Miley."

Donna looked down. "Oh. You've heard."

"What happened last night mom? What's wrong with Miley?" He asked. "I know you know, mom. That blond lady that was here a while ago..."

"You heard me talking to Carly?" she asked sharply.

"Yes." He said. "You were at school. What happened to Miley mom? What's wrong with her? She's probably locked up in a psych ward by now and I want to know what's wrong with her!"

Donna Oken slowly shook her head. "It's not my place to tell you, honey."

"Then take me to see her. You can get me in." He demanded.

"Not now, Oliver. I'm not entirely sure what happened. I will take you there," She added at the look on his face, "But Jackson probably won't even be able to see her now. She'll be under a forty-eight hour lock up. I'll take you when the time is right, Oliver."

"Promise?" He asked reluctantly.

She nodded and kissed his forehead. "I promise."

--

After an hour ride in the ambulance, during which Miley didn't stop screaming or fighting the restraints on her, they arrived at Los Angeles Medical Center. The paramedics lifted the gurney from the ambulance, and wheeled her in to the ER, Robbie Ray closely following as a nurse took her, and brought her to an elevator.

"Where are you taking her?" Robbie Ray choked out.

"Detective Johnson ordered a forty eight hour psych evaluation. She's going in to solitary." the nurse informed him.

"But..but.." I'm sorry, Mr. Stewart. It's what needs to be done. Wait here," She said, indicating the waiting room, and she went on, leaving Robbie Ray alone.

"She's pregnant!" He called after her. Miley wouldn't want the baby hurt.

The nurse brought Miley in to the room, where other nurses waited. With difficulty, they transferred her from the ambulance gurney to the bed in the room, and they had to get the street clothing off and the hospital gown on. They saw the healing cuts, and made note of them as they got the gown on, and then wrapped the restraints around each wrist and ankle, around her knees, waist, and under her chest line. Another nurse tied her hair in to a ponytail and then they left.

Miley fought the restrains, and kept screaming.

After a while, a woman in a white coat walked in. "Hello, Miley," She said loudly.

"GET ME OUT OF THESE FUCKING THINGS," Miley shouted. "DADDY. MOMMY."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miley. I think you need a nice little rest." She said gently. "Maybe when you wake up, you'll be willing to talk civilly."

A nurse came in and helped hold Miley's shoulder down, and the Doctor inserted the syringe with the sedative in. Within minutes, Miley was silent, falling to sleep.

--

Two days later, after the forty eight hour lock up was over, Donna told Oliver she'd take him the next day, and she'd take Lily too.

Oliver rode his bike to Lily's house, and was let in by Heather, who was just leaving. She'd always trusted them.

He went up to her room.

"Hey," He said, announcing his presence.

"Oh hey," She said back, smiling. "I'm just doing homework."

"I'm not going to school tomorrow." He announced.

"Lucky! How come?"

"My mom's taking me to LA. To see Miley." He said firmly. Her head snapped up.

"Why the hell would you do that?" She said, shutting her chemistry book, and getting off of her bed,, facing him, her arms crossed.

"Because. Somethings obviously wrong, Lily! Something bad happened to her, something horrible, and we're her best friends, we were supposed to be there for her! But we heard one thing, and we...abandoned her!" He yelled.

"Yea!" Lily yelled. "Because she's a boyfriend coveting BITCH!" Lily screamed. "She always has everything, Oliver, everything! She's rich, she's famous, she's pretty...And I finally had one thing she didn't!" Lily yelled. "She only decided she likes you because _I _had you and _she_ didn't! She's a selfish bitchy slut and to her everything is about HER!"

Oliver looked at her. "I don't believe you, Lily. It's not like she controls who she likes! Do you thinks she's some evil witch who sits and plots about how to be better then you and make your life miserable? Don't refer to me as though I'm a possession! I am a person, Lily, and I'm _disgusted_ with how we acted. Disgusted. We didn't even talk to her about it! We just ignored her and made her feel horrible! And then I told her I'd go with her! I was going to, also, and you convinced me to ditch her. I thought you were right, we should avoid her...but we were wrong, Lily, wrong! And something happened to her, Lily! Something awful! We should have been there for her. But we weren't."

"Oh please, if something were really wrong she'd have told us." Lily hissed.

Oliver shook his head. "I'm done with this Lily. You're not who you used to be...I can't be with this...monster who doesn't give a shit what the hell happened to the girl she used to call her best friend." He said. "I'm going to see Miley tomorrow. And we're over. Goodbye." He said, turning to leave, but stopping at the door to face her before he left and say, "And no. She wouldn't have...because we made her think she couldn't."

--

Oliver and Donna arrived at the hospital in Los Angeles around ten the next day. From what Carly had told her, Miley was still in the psych ward, just not in lock up. She hadn't spoken a word to anyone except her father, and she still said barley anything. She was still under the restraints.

"I think I can get her to talk." Oliver said quietly to Robbie Ray, Jackson, Carly, and Miley's doctor, a psychologist, Dr. Casey Jennings. "Please. Let me see her."

Robbie nodded slowly. "Let him in."

--

I'd grown to detest this room.

It was white, white, white everywhere. There was a TV that was always on during the day, and the restraints allowed me access to the remote. That, and the starch white ceiling were all I looked at.

I refused to talk to any Doctor, Carly, or Jackson. I said as few words as I could manage to my father.

It was about time for the shrink to come in and sit there for forty-five minutes, and right one cue, the door opened.

But a different voice greeted me. "Hey, Miley."

I fumbled with the button to raise the bed.

I was restrained around my ankles, waist, and under my bust line, but my hands were free. My eyes widened at who I saw. I said nothing.

He walked forward. "Uh...is it ok if I sit there?" He asked, pointing to the chair beside my bed. I nodded. He pulled the chair so he could sit facing me, and sat. "So..." He said.

I opened my mouth. "Why are you here?" I asked. "You and Lily both have barely spoken to me since...the day you told each other you loved each other. It's been...months." I finished.

"I know." He said shamefacedly. "And I'm sorry. But..." He looked up at me. "Miley...what happened to you?" He asked, his eyes looking over the restraints."

I laughed. Not a 'haha' amused laugh...a cold, bitter laugh, as I looked at him, and softly asked, "What hasn't?"

He looked at me, and I looked back. Looking in to his eyes brought every feeling back, and the tears came to my eyes without notice.

"Don't cry," He begged. "Tell me," He requested. "Tell me what happened. I want to know everything."

I nodded slowly, and started at the beginning.

"That night of the concert." I said slowly, "When you...ditched me," I saw him looked away, embarrassed, "I kept messing up. My voice kept flattening, I forgot the words...I felt awful. I wanted to go home. But Traci...she insisted I go to her party. And so I did. People were drinking. But I iddn't! I didn't drink! I wanted to get away from the noise...so I went in one of the empty guest bedrooms. I lay down...and was dozing off. And then...he came in there. H-he pushed me down. He said...no one says no to me. And...well I'll spare you the details." I whispered, wiping a few tears away. "He...he raped me, Oliver."

"Who?" Oliver asked quietly.

Dad, Jackson, Carly, Holly...they'd all asked me, and I couldn't do it. But then, it came out easily. "Jake," I sobbed. I felt so much lighter. "_He_...he left, and I showered. I took some of Traci's clothes from the closet...I shoved the Hannah wig in my bag...I put my clothes in a garbage bag. I got a taxi to R-Rico's...I shoved the bag in the roof rafters. Then I went home. I couldn't go to school...when I came back...I couldn't take it. It was the day of my momma's death. February sixteenth. I went to see her. I got sick. I couldn't take it anymore, Oliver! You and Lily didn't want me anymore...the rape...mom was gone...I couldn't take it! I started to cut." I took a breath before going on.

"When I wasn't sick anymore, I had to go back to school...and I did. And Lily...all the comments...I kept cutting. And then...This past Friday...I found out I'm pregnant, Oliver! I'm pregnant, the morning after pill didn't work. For me, of course it wouldn't work. On Monday I was back in school. And there he was.

"You replaced me with him. Him of all people...my rapist. I went to the nurse, but I convinced her I was fine. I went to classes, and then home. Dad was out, so was Jackson. I went in to the Hannah closet. I saw the picture taken a few weeks before my rape. Of Hannah, Mike, and Lola. And I saw the picture of Hannah with him after the Teenie awards. And I realized...it was all Hannah's fault! Everything! If I hadn't become Hannah, we wouldn't have moved here. I'd never have met you guys, I'd never have met Jake! I wouldn't have gotten raped. Mommy would still be dead...but I never had any control over that. I snapped. I destroyed everything. First Hannah's closet. Then my room. The Hall way. The stair way. The living room. Then the paramedics came...and I'm here." I finished.

He was shocked. "Oh my God." He whispered. "Miley...I'm so sorry." He said. "I'm so sorry I ditched you, I'm so sorry it happened!"

I was looking at my lap, but I looked at him. "You heard me that day, didn't you? When I was on my balcony, sining, and talking to my mom. You heard what I said about how I felt. You told Lily." I wasn't accusing...I wasn't even asking. I just...knew, now.

He slowly nodded. "Yea...yea I did."

"So thats why you guys hated me all of a sudden. I'd wondered. And you'd been avoiding me." I wasn't angry, really. I was just...stating it.

"That's why Lily's been treating you like shit," He confirmed. "She...well, to quote her she thinks you are a selfish bitchy slut who only likes me because she had me and you didn't and you couldn't handle being inferior to her." He said. "Thats what she thinks. That's why she's turned in to a mean...well, bitch."

I nodded slowly. "I never was going to try to...break you up or anything." I said quietly. "I just wanted you both to be happy. And why were you avoiding me then?"

"I know that, Miley...I think I knew that all along. And I was avoiding you because...have you ever not realized a feeling until it was staring you in the face...until it was brought to your attention? Until you had really thought about it?" He asked, leaning forward.

I nodded. "Yea...why?"

"Because that happened to me, when I really thought about you...and me...us. That's why I've been avoiding you." He said, his eyes locked on to mine.

"Because I realized...I love you too."


	15. Chapter 15

**Ok This is the last chapter. Thanks so much to all who read, alerted, favorited, and reviewed...one more time please=D**

**Be on the lookout for the sequel! It will be titled 'Sew Me Back Together.'**

**Thanks so much!**

**Enjoy =D  
**

**-Jen  
**

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As the words left his mouth, I was shocked, just staring at him. I barely took note as Dr. Jennings, Carly, Daddy, Jackson, and Donna came in.

Dr. Jennings and Carly went to either side of my bed and began taking off all the restrains.

I sat up, still in a daze, and pulled my legs up, thankful to be able to move again.

Finally, I spoke. "Wow."

"I knew that boy was no good! I will kill him-" Dad began, but Carly rolled her eyes.

"How about you let me do my job. People don't like rapists in jail." She said, then looked at me. "Are you ready to talk now?" She asked quietly.

"Jake." I repeated. "Jake Ryan."

I briefly saw shock pass over her eyes. "The actor?"

I nodded. "As you may have gotten from that conversation...I'm Hannah Montana. Well...I was."

She nodded. "He's back at your school? So he'd be there now?"

Oliver nodded.

"Wait..." I said. "I want to be there. When you arrest him."

Carly looked at my dad, her face torn. "I don't know, Miley..."

"Please," I begged. "I want to see him in handcuffs. I want to see him being arrested. I need to see it...I need some form of closure..." I said quietly.

Dad reluctantly nodded.

Carly nodded. "Ok."

--

I walked slowly in to my house. Things were missing, that much was clear, but someone had cleaned up all the broken glass, cleaned my blood form the carpet. I slowly walked up to my room. Again, cleaned up. My walls looked bare, but other then that, it was pretty much the same. I didn't go in to Hannah's closet. That door, both the physical ones of the closet, and the mental ones of the Hannah world, were going to remain closed for now.

I got dressed in black capris and a pink tank top, and pulled a white cardigan sweater on. I slid flip flops on. As I did this, I knew Carly had people at Rico's, obtaining the bag, and bringing it to have DNA harvested.

We were heading to school now.

It's been a day since I told them. It's been a day since Oliver had been in the hospital. We still had to talk about where _we_ stood.

With a solemn promise that I'd given up cutting and that I promised to tell someone if I ever got the urges again, I was released today. I was on medication for depression.

My psychotic freak out hadn't caused my baby harm.

I sighed, and left my room, and went downstairs.

Dad, Oliver, Carly, Donna, and Carly's partner, Detective McEntire, were waiting to go to the school to arrest Jake.

"You ready?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "Very ready."

He smiled, and motioned me out the door. I fell in to step next to Oliver, our hands finding each other's and intertwining, like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.

--

On the way to Seaview High, Carly outlined the plan.

We were going to get there during lunch...Oliver, dad and I were to stay at the entrance to the commons. Carly and Detective McEntire (he told Me to call him Shea. So let's go with Shea from now on.) were going to arrest him, Donna was there for backup if need be. The police car was waiting at the school.

When we got there, she turned to me. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure I have to." I told her. "Let's go."

They were stopped by the secretary, but the badges got them by as they headed for the commons.

I stood in front of my father, his hands on my shoulder's, and my hand still in Olivers, as Donna followed Carly and Shea over to where Jake sat with Lily, Ashley, and Amber.

"Jake Ryan, would you please come with me?" Carly said. Everyone looked over there.

"Uh, who the hell are you?" Jake asked.

"I'm Detective Johnson from the Malibu PD. I have a warrant for your arrest signed by a judge, Mr. Ryan, so come with me before we make you." Carly hissed. I liked her a little better now.

"I'm not going with you!" Jake said, "I didn't do anything!"

"What is going on here?!" Kunkle said, walking forward.

"Ok that's it buddy," Shea said, and grabbed Jake's collar, pulling him up and out of the chair, and Carly grabbed his wrists forcing his hands behind his back and in to the silver handcuffs.

"HEY! I AM JAKE RYAN YOU CAN'T ARREST ME!" Jake screamed. Students were using their cell phones to video this now.

"Yes we can," Carly said. "Because you aren't above the law, and you. Jacob Ryan, are under arrest for the rape of Miley Stewart. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can not afford one one will be provided for you at the expense of the state of California. Do you understand these rights as I've read them to you?" Carly hissed.

Everyone had found me and was staring at me as Jake yelled, "I DIDN'T RAPE HER! I NEVER RAPED ANYONE! SHES _PSYCHOTIC_, SHES LYING TO YOU!" And then, he found me. "YOU!" He screamed, "TELL THEM YOU'RE LYING!"

My heart was beating so fast, there was a lump in my throat, my breathing was off. I shouldn't have come here.

"It's ok," I heard Oliver's voice say, his hand on my cheek, his lips on my forehead. "You're ok." He whispered...and he was right.

I watched as two uniformed officers came in and took Jake away, screaming he was innocent, cursing me to hell.

Then Lily stood in front of me.

Her eyes glared, her face was stone. "I don't believe you." she said. "First you steal my boyfriend, and now you're ruining Jake's life! The only person you ever cared about was _yourself_, Miley Ray Stewart. I can't believe I was ever friends with you. I never want to speak to you again. Have a nice life living in your _lies_." She hissed, and then was gone.

--

That night, I lay in bed. I tried to cry myself to sleep cause it was _supposed_ to hurt. She was my best friend. My sister. My other half.

When Oliver came over after school that afternoon, I was still laying in bed.

"Hey sleepyhead," He teased, coming in and sitting on the edge of my bed.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him, sitting up. "I kept trying to make myself cry. It seemed fitting, you know...it's supposed to hurt, Oliver. I should have cried myself to sleep."

"No, Miley." He said, but I stopped him.

"I wasn't finished!" I said, teasingly hitting him. "I was going to say...but then I realized she doesn't deserve my tears. Not if she was so willing to give up our friendship. She should have seen...I can't control who I like or who likes me. And she should know I'd never lie. She's not work my time or my tears. I figured that out around three in the morning...the rest of the night I was up with morning sickness."

He smiled, "I'm glad, Miley. You shouldn't cry over her. And I'm sorry about -"

"I know." I cut him off. "You've apologized like five million times. It's alright." I smiled.

He smiled back, then bit his lip hesitantly, "Can I try something?" He asked.

"What?" I asked, looking at him.

He slowly lifted his hands to my face, and my eyes shut, as his lips came in to contact with mine.

One of my hands found its way to the back of Oliver's neck, pulling him closer to me, as I kissed him back with as much intensity as I could.

I'd expected Oliver to be a good kisser...but WOW he was like, one hundred times better then I'd ever dreamed...and trust me, I'd dreamed quite often about him being quite an amazing kisser.

"Wow." I breathed when we pulled away.

"Wow." He agreed.

"Oliver...I don't know if we should do this." I said, looking away. "I'm pregnant...and I'm broken." I told him, looking back up at him.

He nodded slowly. "I know you're pregnant. And I don't care. And I know you're broken..." He said, taking my face in his hands again. "Let me help put you back together." He said softly.

His eyes looked at me so intensely. I nodded.

"Please...I'll need you to put me back together," I said quietly, looking back at him in the eye, and sofly adding one thing, before kissing him again.

"Because I sure as hell won't be able to do it alone."


End file.
